


Whiskey Kin

by Nellblazer



Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Bartenders, Body Worship, Dominant Mad Sweeney, Drunken Flirting, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gods, Jack's Crocodile Bar, Mad Sweeney Needs a Hug (American Gods), Praise Kink, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Whiskey & Scotch, Worship, luck, new vs old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: Coming to the end of your road trip in Jack's Crocodile Bar, you catch the eye of the resident redheaded brawler just in time for the biggest bar fight of your life.Why do you get the feeling all the customers here aren't exactly human though?*Please do not replicate my work anywhere else without my express permission*
Relationships: Mad Sweeney (American Gods)/Reader, Mad Sweeney (American Gods)/You
Comments: 119
Kudos: 240





	1. Kinfolk

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will feature accented dialogue from multiple characters.
> 
> Warnings: Violence
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading
> 
> \- NB xx

I'm down to my last hundred bucks, stood outside of a bar and knowing I shouldn't be craving a drink but....fuck it.

My great American road trip was coming to an end. I'd gone across several states, finally petering out in Illinois. I came here to de-stress and I'd met some colourful characters along the way, making memories I would treasure forever but this would be my last night.

Tomorrow I'd find the nearest airport and go home.

Jack's Crocodile Bar, huh?

I went in, gawking at the giant crocodile head that framed the bar unit with the sparkling lights near the teeth. In the flickering of movement from the bar patrons around, it almost seemed as if the creature was alive, waiting to strike.

“You look lost, honey,” the woman serving looks me up and down.

“Just going where the road spits me out,” I sit on the stool.

“Tourist, huh?” she smiles kindly. “I'm Jack, this is my bar. Tell you what, have one on me tonight.”

“Really?!”

“Really,” Jack winks. “Don't get many non-Americans around here. Well....except deadly red over there. Stay away from him, sweetie. Boy is bad news.”

I follow her finger to see the tallest guy I've ever seen in my life perched ridiculously on the bar stool. It barely looks like he's sitting. He's broad, wearing a wife beater vest and suspenders with a shock of russet hair and a full beard. Looking closer, seems like he's broken his nose a few times in his life.

“Brawler?” I ask.

“Lost count of the amount of times I've had to replace furniture,” Jack rolls her eyes. “What'll it be?”

“SoCo and Coke?”

She gives me a weird look, “Huh.”

“What?”

“That's what he drinks too,” she thumbs over to the burly redhead. “I'll be.”

He catches my eye, looking down my body or what he can see of it before pursing his lips in a kiss at me. I down my drink so I don't have to interact any more.

“Oi! Jack!” he yells.

Jack stands very still, takes a deep breath, looks heaven ward and mutters something under her breath before shouting back, “Yeah?”

“Another of whatever the lasslin's havin',” the Irish accent is thick but pleasant.

“Can you afford it?” Jack folds her arms.

I watch as he spits coins out of his mouth into his empty glass. It's a cool little magic trick but I guess he must do it often because Jack doesn't look impressed. He chuckles drunkenly before putting bills on the bar soon after.

“Another one it is. No more for you though, Sweeney. You've had enough.”

He blows a raspberry and makes a very rude hand gesture. It's not malicious though. He seems like a good natured enough drunk....so far.

I sip my second drink, making it last. I didn't want to get wasted this early. I wanted my last night in the US to be memorable....and I wanted to remember it.

“And what's a bright young thing like you doing in a dive like this?” a smooth voice, an older voice, a voice that's been hewn by many years of a freeing lifestyle.

I look to my right to see a man with hair that was still clinging to it's dark colour even in age, a craggy face and one eye that seemed to be sightless. He carried that easy charm that spoke of a lifetime of schmoozing his way through countless women.

“Just stopping by,” I reply politely.

“Hmm, not from around here, are you?” he chuckles. “Let me guess.....traveller? Seeking a resolution you don't know is there? Seeing where the road takes you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I've seen the look many times, my dear. I'm Wednesday,” he holds out a hand and I shake it. “Tell me, are you a religious person?”

“Not in the slightest,” I take a drink, hoping I wasn't about to get a lecture about Christianity. “Never prayed to anything that did a damn thing.”

“And this is why the Bible is bullshit,” Wednesday laughs. “In the old days people prayed to gods who interacted. It was a much simpler time, rather than waiting for some all-mighty to never give you the time a'day. Stick around, my good woman. You'll see some sights in this bar tonight and I doubt you'll walk away believing in nothing.”

With that very cryptic sentence, he slinks off to a booth nearby Sweeney, getting deep in conversation with some rough looking types and a stunning looking woman who definitely did not look like she belonged in their little party.

“Jack, who's that?” I ask, nodding to Wednesday.

She grimaces her jaw a little, “Wednesday. Don't know much 'bout him but he sure is a slimy bastard. Watch yourself around him. I seen him seduce supermodel types before. He's got a silver tongue like the devil himself.”

“Is there _anyone_ in this bar I don't need to watch out for?” I laugh, feeling a little nervous.

“Me?” she shrugs, giving me a grin. “You want some fries? I made too much and they're only gonna go to waste.”

“That would be amazing, thank you!”

I liked Jack a lot already. She had a maternal vibe hidden behind a 'don't fuck with me' attitude.

She came back with the food and I noticed she'd thrown some chicken strips in the basket too and she passed by with a wink before going to serve Wednesday's party. I noticed Sweeney was eyeing them with extreme distaste.

The night went on and the bar became livelier. More people drifted in, fresh from work or out for the evening and I briefly wondered why Jack was the only person serving. Surely for a crowd like this you'd have more bartenders?

When Wednesday went to the restrooms, I felt his hand pat my shoulder and he gave me a charming smile before heading in. I must've shivered very visibly because the next thing I knew, Sweeney was walking in the same direction and he stopped to speak to me.

“Perverted old cunt, isn't he?” he wrinkles his nose. “If he touches yer again, I'll end up sayin' somethin'.”

“I'm fine, I can take care of myself if he gets handsy,” I try and assure him but I can tell by Sweeney's expression that he wouldn't let the subject die. “I'm a big girl. I've got fists and I can use them.”

“I bet,” he fiddles with his shirt pocket to draw out a cigarette and tucks it behind his ear. “Yer of the blood, yeah?”

“What?”

“Éire, lasslin'. Yah got the look about yer,” he smiles crookedly. “Fightin' spirit. Can always tell kinfolk, even if the ancestry is diluted. Anyways, I'm bustin' for a piss. Yer get in trouble, shout for me.”

He nods before going into the restroom too. He didn't seem as bad as Jack had made out. Crude yes, brutish, probably but he had good intentions.

I had about five minutes of peace, draining my fifth drink of the night and feeling that comfortable buzz before all hell broke loose.

My glass was knocked from my hand as someone was flung into me and then the area behind me exploded with brawling patrons. I barely had time to push someone away before ducking a punch.

When I looked up, all of Wednesday's party was fighting with some of the other customers. Wednesday and Sweeney came out of the toilets to absolute carnage and they glared at each other before starting to grapple too. Wednesday was surprisingly agile and Sweeney was clouted with a tankard that made him spit blood.

I was frozen by the sheer surprise of it all. I hadn't even heard any raised voices. This had all just started out of the blue.

I had to start hitting my way out, punching and kicking when people got too close as I made for the back of the bar, the remnants of my food basket being thrown at the pretty woman who looked mortally affronted. I got socked in the back by something heavy that pinned me against the bar unit and I twisted around, smacking them back.

“Jesus!” Sweeney yells, clutching his cheek. “Yer really _do_ have some fists there!”

“Shit, sorry!” I forget that his near six foot five bulk is caging me in place, I'm just horrified I've hit the wrong person.

“Don't be. Fuckin' riles a man up,” he winks and at this close proximity I can see flecks of gold in his eyes that shimmer in the light.

“What-” I say before I'm being kissed so hard I nearly fall over the bar.

“One for luck,” he laughs, blood smeared across his face as he jumps back into the fray.

“Get back here!” Jack is dragging me over the counter and handing me a baseball bat. “Anyone comes for you, give 'em a whack. You got my full permission, sweetie.”

“Why the hell do you let them in if they keep destroying the place?!” I tighten my grip on the bat.

“They tip _very_ well,” Jack shrugs, wielding her own weapon. “Plus...they ain't usual.”

“What do you mean?”

She points at the scrum and when I really look at it, I stumble backwards not believing my eyes. There was almost a glow to some of the patrons, Wednesday's party in particular. It made me afraid to look at them, like I was this small inferior thing. I didn't understand it.

They seemed to just radiate power.

“What the fuck?” I whisper.

“No idea,” Jack murmurs back. “Scares the pants off a' me too. Just let them get it outta their systems.”

Although I didn't understand it and I was slightly afraid, I felt immensely sorry for Jack having to put up with having her bar ruined night after night. I spotted the gun under the register and I had a plan.

“I know you don't know me but trust me. This will be minor damage to stop major damage,” I reach for it, standing on top of the bar and yell, “OI! SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

They take notice when I let off a shot into the ceiling which only makes a tiny hole. The fighting stops immediately.

“How dare you keep trashing Jack's place! Have some damn respect!” I shout. “Go destroy your own homes if you need to but sit down and enjoy your damn nights without beating seven bells out of each other. Take it outside if you wanna continue. Fuck!”

They goggle at me in astonishment before they release each other and mumble 'sorry's out, righting all the stools, chairs, tables and bringing their broken glasses to the bar.

“Well I'll be damned,” Jack blinks up at me. “If I'da known that would've worked I would've done it months ago.”

“Well said, my dear,” Wednesday stops in front of me, smiling casually.

“What are you?”

The words just burst forth like they'd been burning in my soul for eons. I don't even know why I said it but I instinctively knew there was something off about Wednesday.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” he winks. “Stick around and you might find out.”

He throws a wad of bills onto the counter before going back to the booth with his friends. They give me a curious look before putting their heads together in furied discussion.

“That was quite a display,” Sweeney is right next to me, still seeming impossibly tall despite me being high off the ground. “Need some help getting down?”

He doesn't wait for an answer, holding me by the waist and picking me up, setting me down on the floor like it was nothing. He doesn't let go immediately, looking me up and down like he was wanting to say something but thinking better of it. Finally he steps back, giving me a nod before walking back to his seat, saying over his shoulder, “Grand fine kiss that was, lasslin'. If it's yer last night here, I'll treasure it.”

“And what are _you_ , by the way?” I call after him.

“A leprechaun.”

“Bullshit.”

He just turns around, shrugs with a wry smile and sneaks over the bar to grab a full bottle of Southern Comfort.

A leprechaun? Sweeney was hardly going to be on a box of Lucky Charms.

“Hey, bullet hole in my roof aside, thank you,” Jack catches my attention. “I don't know what you're planning exactly but if you wanted to hang around for a while, I could use a part time bartender who doesn't put up with shit. Cash in hand.”

“I don't even have a place to stay right now. This was supposed to be my last night before the money ran out.”

“I got a spare trailer on the lot if you want it? Not the Ritz but roomier than most.”

You probably should go home, return to your normal life but after seeing _that_.....you wanted to know what the hell was going on.

“Deal.”

“I'll get you the keys now then,” she grins. “You've saved me a week of closure sprucing the place back up. Least I can do.”

“Thank you.”

As she moved off to sort out the arrangements, I couldn't help but look at Wednesday's party who were still casting glances my way. Just what the hell _were_ they? Why did I feel so....inexplicably lowly around them?

Wednesday blows me a kiss and I roll my eyes, choosing instead to look at Sweeney who was outright staring at me, running a broad finger around the rim of the bottle with a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. There was something not quite right about him either but a leprechaun? He had to be drunk and pulling my leg.

Can't say I was mad about the kiss though. As pissed up kisses went, it was pretty nice.

I reached over and got a cloth, wiping the blood off of my face before Jack handed me a whiskey and toasted to my new employment. I drained the glass in one, seeing golden eyes out of the corner of my vision watching every move.

I was going to get to the bottom of this mystery. One way or another.


	2. Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You start working at Jack's Crocodile Bar but solving this mystery won't be as easy as you think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Dubious touching, swearing
> 
> (Possible proof reading and grammar errors. Sometimes wrote whole passages in the second person instead of first. Whoops)
> 
> \- NB x

I didn't imagine when I first came here that I'd be bartending in the back end of Illinois.

It wasn't as tough as I was expecting it to be and Jack told me I was bringing in more tips for having some new blood around. It wasn't an immense amount of pay but it was enough to keep me comfortable.

Wednesday didn't return and I spent every night watching the door like a hawk, waiting to ask him that question again of what he was. Sweeney, however, was in every night.

He always ordered the same thing, SoCo and Coke, necking it like it was water. Every time I put the drink in front of him, he'd brush my hand with his and play it off as being clumsy but the wink was all I needed to know that Sweeney liked me.

I never got a lot of time to talk with him though because it seemed to be extremely busy whenever I wanted to question him. He gave me crooked smiles though, blowing kisses down the bar unit and tipped extremely well.

He never got involved in any more dust ups but he was extremely protective whenever one of the drunken patrons got too lewd or handsy or plain up insulting. The second they were faced with a six foot five Irish man with clenched fists, they apologised pretty quickly.

It was a Sunday, a quiet day usually and I'd just given Sweeney his fifth drink along with some chilli fries to munch on when I heard that cocky voice ring out near the door.

“Oh it is good to be back.”

Wednesday.

I turned around and he was staring right at me, dragging his eyes uncomfortably obviously over my 'uniform' of a plaid shirt and jeans. I was beginning to wish I hadn't undone so many buttons on the shirt.

He trailed in, sauntering like he owned the place as two others trailed in his wake, one I recognised to be the pretty woman who'd gotten a face full of chicken strips the last time. They stopped at the bar, assessing me.

“So you stuck around, I see,” Wednesday smiles charmingly.

“Unless I have a twin,” I shoot back.

He chuckles before ordering drinks for his companions and himself and whilst I'm mixing them, I catch him leaning over the bar unit to get a look at my rear as I bent over for some cocktail shakers.

“Eyes up here,” I point to my own, giving him a clear warning.

“A man can appreciate without coveting,” Wednesday shrugs, holding his hands up. “You remember my darling friend here? Bilquis?”

The woman nods at you, a little haughtily.

“Hello,” I nod back politely.

“And this is Mr Nancy,” he points to the man on his right with the duck egg blue suit that was far too ostentatious for a bar like this.

“Pleasure, dear,” Mr Nancy's voice is just as slippery. “This is the girl, I assume?”

“She is the one who shouted at us,” Bilquis smirks.

I got the impression she found it amusing, that she found _me_ amusing. I tried not to let that same feeling of inadequacy take me over. I didn't like her much.

“Most curious indeed,” Mr Nancy takes his drink. “Could I-”

But Mr Wednesday interrupts him, “I think we should sit down before her pet leprechaun starts a scene.”

When I look round, Sweeney is on his feet looking outraged. I can see the cords of his neck coiling tightly as he watches them until they sit down at a booth and then vacates his usual bar stool to sit on one near to the front of the bar.

There was that word again though....leprechaun. Was it a joke because Sweeney was so tall?

“Eyes on me, lasslin',” Sweeney mutters to me. “Don't let those cunts talk to yer. They're bad news.”

“And you're not?”

“I'm not the man yeh take home to mother, let's just say that,” his mouth quirks up. “But I'm better than that lot.”

“And who exactly _are_ those lot?”

“Yer wouldn't believe me if I told yeh,” his golden eyes swim with mirth. “Don't even believe what _I_ am.”

“That's because it's ridiculous.”

Sweeney reaches up and plucks a coin seemingly from nowhere. He does it again and again until there's a small pile in front of him.

“That's just being a magician,” I raise an eyebrow.

“I'm not a fuckin' magician,” Sweeney frowns. “I'm magical, lasslin'. I pluck gold out of my hoard.”

“I don't care where you pluck it from, leprechauns don't exist.”

“We very much do. Not a lot of us, mind, but we do. Fairies, imps, sprites, goblins...”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Enough to be tellin' yer stuff I shouldn't,” he grins. “Yer really shouldn't have stayed here.”

“Why not?”

“They've taken an interest,” he nods his head to the side to indicate Wednesday's table.

“Sweeney, tell me what they are,” I lower my voice. “Please?”

He looks like he might cave for a moment. My puppy dog eyes were always extremely effective and he was about to speak when Bilquis slides over.

“I need to speak with you. Alone.”

“Can't. Working right now. Jack would kill me if I left the bar.”

“Then come with me to the end of the bar. It will be worth your while.”

The tone was so full of promises that, despite Sweeney shaking his head furiously at me, I started moving parallel to her down the unit.

“Oi!” Sweeney yells but I can concentrate on nothing but Bilquis' eyes.

When we reach the end, she leans over and grabs my hand and all the noise in the background fades to nothing. I'd never felt anything like it.

“I was supposed to meet someone here. Men are so unreliable these days,” she purrs, fingers moving delicately up my arm. “Perils of Tinder dating, always a grab and go culture. So you see, I'm in need of some company. Would you do me the honours?”

“Sure,” I don't remember making the decision, it just feels like the answer I should give.

“Good,” she smiles sweetly at me and I'm blessed that this gorgeous woman is even acknowledging me. “Leave the bar, come to the back rooms and _worship me_.”

Upon those last two words, I felt those stirrings of arousal in my core, like it was pulled from nothing and now I was burning, almost feverish to do whatever Bilquis wanted. Worship, yes I would worship her, please her-

A crash of glass startled me as Sweeney slammed his drink down next to me. I could see he was talking but I couldn't make out the words. Bilquis was bringing me back, reminding me I was there to praise her.

But hadn't Sweeney said something about her being bad? How could she be bad when she was everything I wanted in life? How could such a perfect creature be avoided?

I had other hands on me, hands that were trying to shake her from me and I kicked out, hitting whoever it was. Nothing would distract me.

Bilquis was leaning in, almost kissing me before that little voice in the back of my head spoke up again.

Didn't I find her rude and intimidating before? Why was I all of a sudden ready to jump her bones? Had she roofied me and I didn't notice?

Just before her lips made contact, I jerked my hand away with a monumental effort, falling against the liquor which rattled behind me. I felt like I'd run a marathon, my heart was beating so hard in my chest and I was panting desperately.

“What are you?” I blurt out again.

“The better question is, what are _you_?” she doesn't seem offended, only curious and mildly disappointed.

“Just a traveller.”

“So you say,” she smiles in a way that I don't particularly like. “Wednesday was right about you.”

She walks back like nothing had ever happened. Meanwhile Sweeney is on my side of the bar, grabbing me to check me over.

“Y'alright?” he massages my arm where Bilquis had gripped it. “Tried to snap yah outta it but you got me in the shins.”

“I...what? Oh! Sorry,” I notice he's not putting his weight on one leg. “I don't know why I did that.”

“HEY!” Jack calls as she starts her shift, seeing Sweeney right next to me. “Right side of the bar only, Red!”

“I'm being helpful!” he calls back.

“My ass, you are. You're trying to get into her pants and you should back up, right now.”

“Wait,” I touch his arm before he hops over the counter. “Meet me on my break, outside in five minutes?”

“Five minutes,” he repeats with a nod before taking his usual seat.

I scuttle back to Jack who was giving Sweeney a very nasty glare.

“Y'okay, sweetie?” she notices my expression. “You don't look too happy.”

“It's Wednesday's group. Sweeney really was just checking I was okay.”

“I guess it was about time he amounted to somethin',” she tears her gaze away from Sweeney. “I know he's been keeping ya safe when I'm not here and I 'ppreciate it but he ain't relationship material, honey. Don't let him get your panties down.”

“I'd prefer him to that lot,” I motion with my head to Wednesday's table who seemed particularly animated now.

“You're a pretty girl,” Jack puts her palm against my cheek. “You can do so much better.”

“I just wanna work,” I laugh. “Don't have time to get into romance anyway.”

“Just looking out for ya,” Jack smiles back. “Get on your break. You must be dead on your feet by now.”

I move to the back room and out through the fire door into the muggy night air. There was barely any breeze, just a close feeling that made me miss the air con inside.

“I'm here,” Sweeney rounds the corner, cigarette on the go. “Take it yer want to talk to me 'bout Bilquis?”

“What happened?” I immediately launch into it. “I don't remember why I went with her to the other side of the bar and I certainly don't know why I wanted to fuck her just now.”

“She does that,” Sweeney snorts, folding his arms and leaning against the wall, ash dropping as he talked from the cigarette. “She's very good at seduction.”

“But that wasn't natural.”

“Don't like women?”

“I don't particularly care but that....I thought she was quite snobbish five seconds earlier. What happened, Sweeney?”

“Don't give me the image of you n' another girl, lasslin'. I dream aboutcha enough,” he groans a little.

“Concentrate!” I thump him in the arm.

“No need to beat me up!” he cries, as if you honestly could, rubbing his arm. “Fine, she's a goddess, one of love and lust and all that bollocks. Nobody refuses her.”

“Look, stop bullshitting me about leprechauns and goddesses,” I scowl. “Did she put something in my drink behind the bar?”

“How could she have?”

He was right. She would've had no opportunity to do it. She was in front of me the whole time....but goddesses?

“Lasslin', yer need to start believin' in us because they're startin' to believe in you,” his words are ominous and I don't understand them. “Nobody refuses Bilquis so there must be somethin' special about yah.”

“I'm just me.”

“Don't sell yerself short,” he winks. “Gorgeous, fighter, sassy.....any cunt would be lucky if yah prayed to them.”

“Is everyone in this town just mad?” I shake my head.

“Tell yah what,” Sweeney produces a coin that's much more battered and worn than any of his others. “This is my lucky coin. I'm gonna show yah how it works. Now...I want another kiss so this will help me get one.”

“No it will not,” I snort. “I'm not falling for that stupid line.”

I turn to go back inside but there's grease on the step I don't remember being there and I slide, wobbling precariously as I fall backwards and into Sweeney's arms. I have two seconds to try and understand what's going on before he's kissing me, much more softly than I would've expected before righting me again.

“Told yah,” he smirks, playing with the coin, flipping it across his knuckles.

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“No way.

“Fuckin' hell, what is it with you modern girls that yer won't accept what's starin' yah in the face?” he scoffs, ruffling his hair so it sticks up even more. “Take it for a day. Have the luckiest twenty-four hours in the world and if yah do, admit that I'm right.”

“Fine,” I take the coin from him.

“N' I'll be back for yer tomorrow,” Sweeney inclines his head.

He makes to walk off but I'm calling him to stop and he turns around, looking puzzled I'm starting an interaction first.

“Thank you, for looking after me, I mean.”

“Not about to let me kinsblood get harassed or felt up,” he smiles. “N' what kind of king would I be if I didn't protect my folk? Especially such a pretty lasslin' like you.”

“King?!”

But he says nothing, merely motions his eyebrows up twice in amusement before disappearing into the dark parking lot, leaving me clutching his coin and wondering just what the hell was going on.


	3. Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Sweeney's claims of a lucky coin really be true?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, mortal peril, Sweeney being handsy
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)  
> (Possible language errors)
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- NB xx

Knowing I had to go back, I slipped Sweeney's battered coin into my bra for safekeeping. I didn't want to be responsible for losing actual gold if it fell out of my trouser pocket.

There was the minutest sense of tingling around the area but I chalked it up to the metal feeling cold.

When I went back in, I was relieved to see Bilquis and Mr Nancy had left leaving only Wednesday behind who was tucking into a burger and eyeing up some blonde girl across the bar with legs that went on forever. Fine by me, kept the attention off of me tonight.

I don't know what it was but as I finished the last hour of my shift, I got more tips than usual. I also got compliments on my appearance which I was sure wasn't anything special right now but luck? Couldn't be.

“Hey, you've done a great job tonight. Why don't you head off early?” Jack pats me on the back.

“You sure?”

“Positive. God I wish you were sticking around, honey. Business is a lot easier with you here.”

“We'll see how it goes,” I smile back. “But I appreciate the opportunity.”

“Any time. Go on now, get. You must be tired.”

I say my goodbyes before walking past Wednesday's table as I make to leave. He doesn't follow but he speaks to me.

“I see he's taken a veritable interest,” he chuckles smugly.

“Who?” I turn around.

“Our gentle giant of a friend, Sweeney. You have something of his right now, don't you?”

“Not really. The only thing he gave me was an unexpected kiss,” I lie.

I'm not about to advertise I have gold on me. I don't trust Wednesday not to frog me down for it. He seems like the money grubbing type.

“Oh?” Wednesday's eyebrows shoot up with mirth. “So he could do what Bilquis couldn't....curious.”

“And while we're on that subject, keep her away from me.”

“I can no more keep her from doing what she wants than telling a crow to stop flying, my dear.”

“Thanks for nothing then,” I shake my head, walking away.

“He's not what you think he is, you know,” Wednesday calls after me.

“What, a leprechaun?” I scoff. “Heard it before.”

“No, I mean he's a coward. He'll disappoint you in the end.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I flip him the bird over my shoulder and far from being offended, I can hear him laughing raucously.

“Such a spirit you have in you. I'll be seeing you soon.”

I make it outside and instead of going to the trailer, I hit the all night convenience store grabbing a few luxuries with my tip money before pausing near the scratchcards. The temptation to test Sweeney's bold claim was pretty strong and I ended up asking the clerk to ring me one up.

Imagine my surprise when, scratching it off with a loose cent, I'd won $500.

“Holy shit!” I exclaim as the clerk looks at me jealously before handing the money over.

Now, I can't say I wasn't completely curious if it would work a second time but I wasn't going to push it. If I won big again at this store then it'd look suspicious.

Instead I just walked to my trailer, deposited my food in the fridge and went straight back out, walking down the deserted road to the other all night store.

Again I won.

No. Fucking. Way

After I was a grand up, I was beginning to think maybe Sweeney _wasn't_ bullshitting me about this. I still had a healthy dose of scepticism though. The odds might be just in my favour. A mathematical anomaly.

“PUT THE MONEY IN THE BAG AND THEN PUT YOUR HANDS UP!”

I whirl around seeing a man in a balaclava holding up the cashier with a gun. My stomach drops as I crouch down in the nearest aisle.

The cashier tips the register into the bag which isn't much since I cleared it out just now. I can tell the robber is pissed.

“That's all?!” he shakes the gun.

“That's all! I swear!”

“Who just won? Who won money?”

If I can just get to the door I might be okay. I can make a break for it.

“Some girl. I don't know. She might have left already.”

I edge back, trying to slip nearer to the employee room because now the robber's attention is on the doorway. I nearly back up into a stack of cans but just notice it before I give myself away.

There's a bang and something heavy thudding to the floor and I clamp my hand over my mouth so I don't scream. Fuck, has he killed the cashier?!

“FUCK!” the guy shouts in frustration before I hear rustling and I assume he's grabbing what he can.

Something compels me to move, to run now and I listen to my gut as I sprint full pelt towards the door. I slam into it, the door chime ringing noisily as I burst through and I feel something whistle behind me at speed.

I think I just literally dodged a bullet.

I ran down the road, ducking now and again to keep out of line of sight as several more bullets whizzed near my direction. I was going to be sick. I was actually going to throw up right now. I could taste the bile in my throat.

A pick up stops in front of me and a familiar russet face leans out of the window.

“Get in!” Sweeney calls to me and I throw myself across the bonnet before jumping in the passenger door and he squeals off, not giving me time to get seated properly.

Now there's some distance between me and the guy, I finally take a deep shuddering breath. I tried to keep the tears at bay.

“Two fuckin' hours. I leave fer two fuckin' hours n' this is what yer get yerself into?” Sweeney shakes his head.

“I didn't know,” I pant, clutching my chest where my lungs are burning. “Fuck. Oh my god, did that just happen?! I should be dead.”

“But yer not. Well isn't that _lucky_?” he says with heavy emphasis.

“Are you seriously making jokes right now?!” I'm on edge.

“Not jokes. Just a question.”

“So that coin is the reason I'm still standing?”

“N' anything else that's mildly gone yer way.”

“Bilquis leaving, the scratchcard wins...”

“Everyone always hits the lottery,” Sweeney sighs. “But a robbery is a new one on me.”

“Wait, how the fuck did you know where I was anyway?” I turn in the seat as he pulls into a layby.

“I'm bound to the coin. I know where it is at all times n' I also know when it's usin' a whole bunch a' luck at once. I figured you were in danger.”

“You...what? You know where the coin is?”

Rather than saying, he reaches over, plunging his hand into my top and down into my bra before fishing the coin out and holding it between two fingers with a smug smile on his face.

“Hey!” I protest. “Ask first!”

“I was proving a point,” he winks before shoving the coin into my hand.

“Why are you giving it back?”

“I said twenty-four hours. It's not time yet. Where am I droppin' ya off, lasslin'?”

“The trailer park down the road.”

I don't know why but I start clutching the body warmed coin tightly in my palm. It was almost soothing in a way.

“Bugger that. We're going to mine,” he switches the engine on again. “Yer in no state to be on yer own.”

“So come into the trailer.”

“I won't fit.”

“I don't know you, Sweeney.”

He leans over, getting closer to me across the seats, “Have I ever done anythin' to make yer afraid a' me?”

“Not really, no.”

“Do ya think I'm gonna harm yer?”

“I hope not.”

“I may be a bit handsy, lasslin' but I ain't a woman beater n' I ain't a rapist. Believe me?”

I looked into the golden eyes that seemed to swim with glittering flecks as I turned the coin over and over in my fingers whilst thinking. Sweeney had only ever protected me. Sure he'd pushed his luck a few times with coming onto me but he'd never stepped over the line and backed off when I asked him to.

And I _really_ didn't want to be alone tonight. He was right.

“I believe you,” I nod, tucking the coin back in my bra.

“Mine it is then,” he starts driving.

**

Sweeney's place turned out to be a cabin near Treadway Lake on the other side from the hunting club house.

It was a two storey thing with an observation deck on the top balcony and a pier for fishing.

“I thought you'd be more of a condo person,” I look at the, frankly charming, building.

“Needed to be near nature. Feel better when I'm away from concrete,” he opens the door and bends his ridiculously large frame down to kick all the fans into action. “Ain't decorated much but I got a spare bed. Sit tight on the sofa. I'll be right back.

I drop into the sofa and become completely motionless, the only thing stirring is strands of my hair as the fans whip them back and forth. I couldn't stop thinking about how I nearly died just then, about what might have happened to the cashier.

“Don't say I never do anythin' nice for....lasslin'?” I hear Sweeney's voice behind me but I can't concentrate.

There's a ceramic clink on the side table next to me and then Sweeney's broad face fills my vision. He looks concerned as he kneels in front of me.

“Hey, hey it's alright. I got ya. Yer safe with me,” he places his hands on my knees and squeezes them.

That's when the waterworks really start and I can't hold back the flood of tears. Sweeney just reaches around me and I bury my face in his shoulder as he holds me tightly, stroking my back to calm me down.

“I would've killed him ya know,” he says quietly. “If I thought ya wanted me to. I would've killed him for what he did. Nobody shoots at my kinfolk. Nobody.”

And I believed him. It was like I could sense his anger but maybe it was just the way his body was tensing.

“There there,” he starts stroking my hair before standing up and sitting down next to me.

I don't protest when he pulls me to lie on top of him so he can properly hold me. It felt nice to be comforted.

Then he did something I didn't expect.

He started singing.

“ _Siúlaigí a chairde, siúlaidh liom,_ _Mar cheo an tsléibhe uaine ag, Imeacht go deo, D'ainneoin ár dtuirse leanfam an tslí, Thar chnoic is thar ghleannta, Go deireadh na scríbi._ ”

I didn't know what he was singing about but it stirred something inside, something old and forgotten. It was like a sense of peace, a moment of home and the scent of the grass full of nearby bramble bushes bursting with berries. I could even get a tang of the salt of sea air.

A deep weariness was settling bone deep, like the satisfied ache you get after a long day of travelling. I think I must have fallen asleep on Sweeney because the next thing I knew, I woke up as he was carrying me up the stairs into the bedroom.

He gently laid me on the bed, removing my shoes before throwing the covers over me. He was about to leave but I managed to croak out, “Don't go.”

“Can't stay, lasslin',” he smiles crookedly. “Not polite to.”

“Fuck polite. This bed is big enough for two, just....I don't want to be alone.”

I can see him fighting with himself for a moment and then he sighs, “Aye, alright then. No hanky panky though, I'm tired meself.”

“Shut up. When have I ever come onto you?”

“A king can dream,” he mutters with a grin.

He kicks off his heavy boots which thud against the floor before getting onto the bed, on top of the covers where it bows under his weight. Even in the semi-darkness I can see he's not closing his eyes yet.

“What was that song about?” I ask, fighting a yawn.

“A long journey across the valleys. Yeh fell asleep before the next part of it. It's more of a...toast to those that were lost along the way.”

“So a sad song then?”

“Did you feel sad listening to it?”

“No. I felt....oh I don't know.”

He turns onto his side, eyes still so bright against the gloom, “Nah, come on. That song means different things to different people. What did yer feel?”

“I felt like I was in a field, near a cliff by the sea and it was....it felt like home. It felt like I was wandering near home but my home isn't near the sea. It's in the city.”

“Yer more kin than ya realise,” I think he's studying my face. “Got family?”

“All dead. That's why I came travelling. Never saw my mother. She vanished when I was little. My Dad died a few years back. No brothers or sisters.”

“Tell me, when I sang...what season did it feel like?”

“Season?” I mull it over. “It felt like....there was sun and that was warm but there was still a chilly breeze.”

“Spring,” Sweeney nods. “Bilquis was right. Yer not usual.”

“And what does that mean?”

“No use tellin' ya when ya don't believe what I'm sayin',” he snorts before rolling over onto his back. “Best get some sleep. Been a long night.”

“Fine,” I sigh, knowing he's not going to give me any more answers to his cryptic sentences.

He holds out his hand, palm up on the bed in between us.

“You can take it...or not. There if ya want it,” he says nonchalantly but I know he's trying to be sweet right now.

I close my tiny hand in his huge one and settle back in the pillows as he hums that tune again and I start getting drowsy.

“Goodnight, _Sionnachín_ ,” I hear him whisper into the darkness as I fade off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is from Battlestar Galactica called 'Wander My Friends' sung by Lilis Ó Laoire


	4. Chastisement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You become closer to Sweeney but Wednesday brings a new friend to disturb the peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Excessive swearing as always, Wednesday being inappropriate
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> \- NB xx

I wake up not remembering where I was, startled at the low nuzzling sound next to me.

For one moment, I think someone's broken into the trailer until I catch a scent of oak, of berries, of the tang of metal and I open my eyes to see Sweeney curled into the side of me. For such a big man, he sure can pack down small when he wants to.

He didn't have an arm slung over me, it just seemed like he'd gravitated to my warmth in the night and I thought it was sweet. He didn't have any of the cynicism or brashness when he was asleep, just a peaceful glow with red strands falling over his eyes, lightly wafting with each breath.

I got out of the bed, moving downstairs to check my phone to see I didn't have long before my next shift. I'd have to wake up him, although I felt bad for doing it.

My heart twisted with guilt even more when I saw two stone cold cocoas on the side table next to where I'd broke down last night. He must have made them to cheer me up.

There's a shout from upstairs and great thump that shakes the ceiling and tiny specks of dust fly down.

“Lasslin'?!” Sweeney calls out and I race up the stairs, coming across the sight of him tangled in the sheets on the floor. “Ah thank fuck. Thought yer'd tried to walk to Jack's yerself.”

“I don't even know where we are. I'd probably end up in a creek or something.”

He snorts before extracting himself and standing up, stretching his back out and he looks even taller. Without warning, he just grabs his shirt and pulls it over his head. I get a flash of muscle and scarring before I whirl around, trying to give him some privacy.

“Aren't ya just precious?” he roars with laughter. “It's just skin.”

“I didn't know if you were going to whip anything else off as well.”

“Can if ya want me to,” I can hear the playful grin in his tone. “I don't mind showing off.”

“Sweeney, get changed.”

But he doesn't. He comes right behind me and I can feel the heat of his bare chest against my back as his hands come to rest on my shoulders. I don't think there's any intent behind it, he's just trying to be comforting.

“You alright this mornin'?” he says as softly as he can manage. “I know ya ain't a hundred percent from last night n' I hope this wasn't too much.”

I have no idea why I did it but I crossed my arm across my chest to hold one of his hands and squeezed it, “It really helped. Thank you and...sorry I never got to try the cocoa.”

“I'll make us one to go,” he rests his face in my hair for just a second before pulling away. “Jack'll string me up by me bollocks if I bring yer in late.”

“She might do anyway for just being near me,” I laugh.

“Ah fuck,” Sweeney curses and I hear a lot of rustling behind me before a bunch of fabric falls over my face. “Don't have time to swing by yer trailer. Borrow the shirt. Jack's a stickler for professionalism, fuck knows why.”

He strides past my eyeline in a wife beater vest and jeans, tucking his arms through the suspenders before I hear his heavy footfall moving to the lower level. Guess he wasn't bothered much about his privacy as he was mine.

I did the best I could with Sweeney's red plaid shirt. It was painfully big but I rolled the sleeves up, tucked the excess length into my waistband and it sort of worked. It'd be passable for the afternoon.

When I joined him, his eyes flashed a little at the sight of me but he didn't comment...at least not until he thrust a flask of cocoa into my hand as I went to go to his truck.

“Looks better on you,” he follows, starting the engine.

**

When I get to the Crocodile Bar, I ask Sweeney to wait a little until I go in so Jack doesn't chew us both out.

I love Jack, I do but she's very protective and it's not like I'm shacking up with Sweeney. He's just being friendly.

Unfortunately she just seemed to know and gave me the highest raised eyebrow I've seen on a person. She just beckoned me over shaking her head.

“You didn't listen, did you, honey?” she sighs, throwing the bar towel over her shoulder. “You been with Red?”

“Not in _that_ way,” I protest.

“Sweetie, you and I both know that shirt is not yours. It's three sizes too big,” she plucks at the fabric.

“He was just being nice. I was caught up in a robbery last night and he helped me get outta there.”

“What?!”

“At the gas station. Some guy held it up and I just ran whilst this guy was shooting at me.”

“Oh you poor baby,” she bundles me in her arms tightly. “Alright, I'll give him a pass. Do you need me to call the police?”

“I'm fine. Just a bit shook up. I wanna work though. I'm useless when I think about it too much.”

“Half a shift then,” she narrows her eyes. “Then you get some sleep. Can't imagine being at Sweeney's was very relaxin'.”

“Yes Ma'am,” I nod.

“Don't call me Ma'am,” she winces. “I ain't some airs and graces lady. Go on now, the lemons need cuttin'.”

I slip on the half apron just as Sweeney comes lumbering in and he gets the full glare of Jack as he sheepishly rubs the back of his head and goes to sit on his usual bar stool. I think they're having words because I see Jack bent over the bar unit in fevered conversation with him.

It's all but confirmed when I hear him loudly protest, “I didn't touch her! Lasslin' was in trouble n' I helped! Fuck me, Jack, I like the girl, okay? Back off, ya overbearin' cow!”

“You touch her and I'll be cooking your testicles in the deep fryer!” Jack raises her voice too.

“What if she touches me?”

“Then I'll give her a slap upside the head. Paws off. She's a nice girl and I don't want you driving her away.”

“Come on!” Sweeney protests. “I _genuinely_ like her. I don't wanna harm her or upset her.”

“No alcohol for you tonight, Red. Coke only.”

“FUCK OFF!” his volume rises in indignation

Neither of them have noticed I'm stood stock still listening to their fight until I purposefully clatter the knife down on the bar unit and both of them jump, scattering from each other.

For the rest of my shift they don't interact but I make sure to sneak him some SoCo when Jack is in the storeroom.

“Bless ya, lasslin',” he happily knocks it back with a wink.

I quickly move away though, anxious that Jack might spring out at any moment but my shared little moment with Sweeney is burst as Wednesday, Bilquis, Mr Nancy and someone I didn't recognise but who scared me on sight walked in. The new guy was older, looked like he'd been heavily built back in his youth, had greased back long hair that was receding up his forehead and wore a stained wife beater vest.

“Well if it isn't my favourite barmaid,” Wednesday is all smiles and charm. “We'd like drinks at a table tonight.”

“She's not what I expected,” the new guy says, gruffly in what you think is an Eastern European accent.

“What would you like?” I ignore his comment.

I wasn't going to answer rudeness directly.

“Forgive my friend, he doesn't get to the cities much. This is Czernobog. Just call him Czern, it might be easier.”

Wednesday leans across the bar to give me his order but then he inhales sharply before withdrawing and I see him shoot a glare at Sweeney before coming closer to my ear.

“I see you and our mad leprechaun are becoming a little more acquainted. Wearing his clothing now? I wonder what you got up to. Did you feel the call of kin? Did the pull of home win out? Did you worship him?”

At the mention of the word 'worship', Bilquis gives you a wink and you flatly remember when she was trying to get you to go home with her.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

When Wednesday grabs the front of my shirt to whisper directly in my ear, I hear the scraping of a bar stool.

“You'll know soon enough. Meet me by the trailer park and I'll tell you everything. I'll even answer your question.”

Just before Sweeney pulls him off, Wednesday presses his craggy lips to my cheek and chuckles to himself before he's flung backwards. Immediately Czernobog starts squaring up to Sweeney and the two are almost chest to chest, daring the other to make a move.

“ENOUGH!” I snap. “Everyone calm down. You lot, go sit and I'll get your drinks. Sweeney, come sit here.”

“Expertly done,” Mr Nancy claps. “You're quite the entertainment. I just love watching you deal with them. Add me a banana daiquiri, I think it's a fruity night tonight.”

He throws an arm over Bilquis who, luckily, doesn't talk to you. They sit down whilst Czernobog bodily picks Wednesday up off the floor.

Your own hulking bodyguard slumps into the stool directly in front of you looking murderous.

“What the heck is going on?” Jack has come by to see the aftermath.

“Just diffusing another fight,” I sigh. “Would you mind covering? I need a minute.”

“Sure sweetie.”

I hare off towards the ladies' and spot Czernobog making a beeline for me. I think he's going to intercept me but at the last minute, a regular bar patron gets up blocking his path and I'm able to slip inside.

What was it with Wednesday and his pack of weird friends? They seemed to be coming in for _me_ now and I didn't like. I especially didn't like Wednesday having the audacity to kiss me. It made my skin crawl.

I couldn't deny though that I was interested to know what he had to say to me in private. It's what I had stayed here for after all, right? Was I really going to meet him alone though? That didn't feel safe. Maybe Czernobog would just sling me in the back of a van and that'd be the end of me with whatever they wanted me for.

There was a harsh knock at the door and harried whispering, “Lasslin', it's safe to come out.”

Sweeney. I needed Sweeney nearby.

As much as he was just as strange, I knew he'd look after me and, if I was being honest with myself, I kinda liked him being around.

I came out of the bathroom as Sweeney blocked me from view and I got behind the bar unit lickety split. I wasn't going to hang around.

“Hey,” I beckon him close. “Wednesday wants to meet me at the trailer park after my shift. I don't feel comfortable going alone. Will you come with me?”

“Yer don't need to ask that. 'Course I will. Wednesday ain't gettin' near ya when I'm around. Fuckin' cunt. Can't believe he kissed ya. Do me a favour n' keep the coin until it's over, yeah?”

I'd forgotten about the coin nestled in my bra. Maybe it's because I didn't feel particularly lucky right now in this situation that it didn't cross my mind.

“Don't gimme that. It's workin',” Sweeney frowns, nodding to my chest. “Bilquis was gonna talk to yer again n' ya made it to the loos without Czernobog gettin' ya.”

“I suppose,” I sigh. “I finish in two hours. Wait for me.”

“Always have been,” he delivers that cheesy line with the biggest grin he can.

**

I didn't feel comfortable all shift.

Wednesday's party were boring holes into my head from the amount of staring and the intense whispering was making me paranoid. Going over to deliver drinks wasn't much better and I had to ask Jack to do it instead because Mr Nancy stroked my hand as I put his third cocktail down.

I waited a good amount of time after Wednesday left before going outside and Sweeney followed, flipping the bird at the rest of the table before we went.

We walked together in relative silence towards the trailer park before Sweeney pulled me aside into a patch of trees to speak.

“Whatever he says, whatever he shows ya, don't be taken in by him,” he says seriously, ginger eyebrows knitted together. “He can talk the backside off a donkey n' I seen him charm the uncharmable. I don't know what he wants with yer but it ain't gonna be rainbows n' kittens.”

“I'll be alright. I've got you,” I try to reassure him but he doesn't seem very convinced.

“I should just take ya away from here, far from here,” he mutters. “Where they can't get ya.”

“Sweeney, stop it. It'll be fine.”

He mutters a few swear words but follows me anyway until I get to the entrance where Wednesday is waiting alone.

“I see you brought your pet,” Wednesday smirks to himself. “I don't intend on harming you, my dear.”

“Just kissing her,” Sweeney snarls.

“Didn't _you_?” Wednesday says in mock affrontedness. “That night of the bar fight? She confirmed you aren't attached so I can play my cards.”

“Just tell me what I wanna know,” I fold my arms.

“You came here looking for nothing and found gods,” Wednesday declares ostentatiously. “And it seems you aren't all together completely human yourself.”

“You're being crazy now. If this is the best you have, I'm leaving.”

Wednesday grabs my arm and Sweeney makes a move but I hold up a hand to keep him steady.

“When are you gonna stop being blinkered? You felt it that night of the fight, the otherness. You've felt it again since. You felt Bilquis' power. You carry Sweeney's talisman. I can feel the power radiating from you. You are also the first person I've known in a long time to resist us.”

“Who is she then?” Sweeney cuts across.

“No idea,” Wednesday shrugs. “Probably one of yours. She seems drawn to you, no? She feels safe in your presence?”

“All ours are accounted for.”

“Our what?” I interrupt, feeling confused.

“Gods of course.”

“Oh shut up with this bullshit.”

“Bullshit, young lady?” Wednesday raises an eyebrow, getting angry. “I am ODIN!”

“And I'm the sugar plum fairy, now quit wasting my time.”

There's a rumble of thunder from nowhere and a flash of lightning. Wednesday gives me a look like he's caused the damn storm.

“Great, I'll probably get electrified in my sleep,” I grumble.

“You know, you're beautiful but also dense,” Wednesday sighs before the lightning crashes again to the ground right next to him and his eyes begin glowing.

I just about screamed as I clapped my hand over my mouth. I wanted to deny what I was seeing. Surely it couldn't be real?

“I am Odin, Allfather, Grimnir,” Wednesday proclaims. “And you, my dear, have something we're _very_ interested in.”

I didn't realise I was clutching Sweeney so tightly until he shifted his arm a little, curling it around me to keep me back from whatever the hell was in front of me.

“What do ya want her for?” Sweeney asks for me.

“To find out what she is and if she's going to be of any use to us.”

His eyes revert back, the cloudy one seeming to burn brighter than what I remembered, “In short, young lady. We want your faith.”


	5. Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gods can't be real....can they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mortal peril
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> \- NB xx

“ You want my faith? I don't believe in God,” I'm half hiding behind Sweeney at this point. 

“ Well that's just more fortunate for the rest of us,” Wednesday chuckles. “Because he's got enough worshippers as it is. You should see the amount of Jesus' running about. It's a nightmare when we have our big catch up meetings.”

“ Wednesday, yer confusin' her,” Sweeney growls. “She didn't need to find out this way.”

“ Of course she did. She was curious and I know you've already told her you're a leprechaun but she doesn't believe you. She just needed a little push.”

“ I have no idea what's going on but stay away from me,” I find my voice again. 

Wednesday saunters over to me and I let go of Sweeney's arm before backing up. To his credit, Sweeney blocks Wednesday from going any further, broad chest squared in a challenge.

“ You don't want to get in my way, mad bird,” Wednesday's voice lowers and I have to strain to catch it. “You've never defeated me before and you won't do now. Be a good sport and let me find out what she is. I know you're interested to find out too. You can't stay away from her after all.”

“ I'm not movin',” Sweeney's fists ball. “Not her. Yer not gettin' her.”

They just stare at each other heatedly before Wednesday takes a step back and his face splits into craggy amusement.

“ You know, this is the first time you've been brave enough to stay there after a threat?”

“ I may be a fuckin' coward but this ain't a battleground n' she ain't a willin' participant.”

“ Chivalry, is it?” Wednesday laughs raucously. “Protecting your own? Oh no, it's something much baser than that Sweeney. You want her for yourself. It's a selfish need, not some sense of white knightdom.”

“ Only gonna say this once,” Sweeney walks forward one pace as Wednesday takes one pace back. “Fuck off n' go.”

When did the spear come into his hand? I had no idea. One second Sweeney was looking like he was going to give a mean right hook and the next a flaming spear was in his hand, gripped tightly on the shaft. It can't have just appeared from nowhere, could it?

Wednesday looked bewildered and I relished seeing that expression on his usually smug face.

“ Now now, my good man. There's no need for that,” Wednesday puts on his best silky voice. “If you're that possessive of her, you can work with me to find out what she is. Yes?”

“ I don't need anything from you, Allfather,” Sweeney snarls and I'm actually a little afraid of him in that moment. He looks ferocious and wild. “Last chance.”

“ Fine, fine but that won't stop me, you know. After all, I have more friends in high places than you do. The Celtic pantheon is a little woefully lacking these days,” Wednesday shrugs his shoulders before nodding at me. “Good night, my dear. We'll be seeing you soon.”

He walks off into the gloom of the night and about a minute later, I hear the roar of a car engine as he speeds off into the distance. 

Sweeney's spear has vanished and I'm questioning whether I ever saw it all. Too much was going on for me to process right now. 

“ Are y'alright?” he asks me softly. 

“ I...I don't know. I think I just need some air,” I turn on my heel and start walking down the path to Jack's bar.

I didn't have a goal in mind, I just needed to move before I collapsed on the ground. I barely even felt the chill of the breeze any more.

“ Hey!” Sweeney calls after me. “Lasslin'! Don't wander off on yer own! It's dangerous!”

At this point, I had no idea what Sweeney was any more than Wednesday and I just wanted to be on my own. I started running, haring off into the treeline. I knew it was a bad plan, I mean it's dark and there's barely any moonlight but there was just this primal urge to flee and I couldn't help myself. 

My shins hit roots, my arms caught branches, whipping them as I sprinted past but I didn't stop until I couldn't hear Sweeney calling me or his heavy footsteps behind me.

I'd shaken him off. I expect he'd say it was due to the lucky coin, considering his stride was twice as long as mine.

I climbed up to a hill where I could see a lake sparkling in the distance and just sat there on a flat rock. I took in as much as I could of the surrounding area, desperately trying to fill my brain with useless information rather than what I had seen tonight. 

If I squinted hard enough, I could see gnats on the bank of the water, I could see the glistening of damp leaves as they rustled in bushes, I could smell the tang of the earth mixed with the scent of flowers......how had Wednesday's eyes glowed like that?

I chided myself, I was supposed to be clearing my mind, not dwelling. The more I tried to force it out, the more it came back to the fore and I didn't even notice the wildlife suddenly falling silent around me until I heard the crack of a twig and spun around, standing up immediately.

This is when it really hits me that this was a bad idea. I'd be second guessing whether someone was here with me or it was just an animal. Just an animal....but maybe a predatory animal.

Shit, I needed to get back to the road.

I started haring down the hill, my feet slipping and sliding on the wet leaves as something started coming after me. It didn't feel like it was Sweeney, it was malevolent. I could feel the bad intent in the way it picked up its pace.

Once I reached the bottom, I couldn't remember the way back and chose a random direction. My heart was threatening to burst out of my chest and I could barely stuff air into my lungs. I felt hunted. I felt terrified.

I found out at least that it was a man chasing me after he started whistling with a calmness that chilled me to the bone, like this was just a game for them. At regular intervals, I heard the thunk of something heavy hitting the trees and the crack of them splintering. 

They were gaining on me.

I tried to run off down towards the lake but caught my foot in a tangle of roots, rolling down towards the bank. I wasn't injured but I'd wasted precious time in getting to my feet again, only I slipped on the silt and staggered, folding down on myself, just as something whooshed over my head.

“ YOU!” I scramble up, seeing Czernobog advancing on me with a sledgehammer, only his eyes were blood red, no trace of an iris or pupil.

“ You run well, little lamb,” he readies his weapon again. “A fine sacrifice you will be. Did you know there's an art to killing? If I hit a spot just right on your head, you won't feel a thing. You'll just be gone from the world. Oh it's been so long so I've claimed human blood.”

I'd never wanted to believe harder in Sweeney's claim of always knowing when his coin's current holder was in trouble. 

“ I'm not yours to sacrifice!” I spit, not knowing where the words were coming from.

“ Because you're the redhead's pet?” Czernobog snorts. “You're not bound to him, you don't worship him, you've not even let him fuck you. Any of us can claim you and so  _ I _ do.”

He brings the sledgehammer down and I dodge before kicking him in the groin and he drops like a sack of potatoes. I take the opportunity to get the hell outta there and feel his fingers brush against my arm in a vain attempt to claw me back. 

“ Oh you've made this ten times better!” Czernobog laughs through his wheezes. “The chase only gets me fired up, little lamb.”

I throw myself into the undergrowth out of his line of sight, seeing dim lights in the distance and know I was nearly back to something like civilisation. Czernobog is faster than anything I've ever known and he was already catching up. 

A hand shoots out, grabbing me and pulling me down into the dirt, rolling with me into a divot in the earth, a natural crevice. 

“ Be quiet,” a female voice and I look up to see Bilquis, eyes of yellow and her dark skin glowing with a glittering golden sheen that rippled as she moved.

Even in the heat of my fear, I was so mesmerised by the ethereal beauty of her that it took my brain a while to kick back into gear. I shook my head to clear it.

“ Little lamb?” Czernobog calls with barely concealed enjoyment as he walks past our hiding place and stops dead in front of it.

Bilquis slips an elegant hand over my mouth, quieting my loud breathing that I was fighting to get under control. It was like I was hyper sensitive to every noise Czernobog made, every shuffle of his feet as he tried to discern a direction I might have fled to. I was willing him with everything I had to just walk on and eventually, mercifully, he did.

Bilquis didn't stop covering my mouth until a good few minutes later.

“ Thank you,” I breathe. 

“ You're most welcome, little one,” she purrs. “Czernobog should not have made his move without consulting the rest of us.”

“ The rest....” I trail off.

“ Oh sweet thing,” she brushes my errant hair back. “Why do you think I appear as my true self to you? Why does Czernobog? You're starting to believe in us and so we show you who we really are. We know Wednesday met with you to explain.”

“ And who are  _ you _ exactly then?”

“ I've been known by many names,” she smiles. “You'd probably recognise the title 'Queen of Sheba' though.”

“ This can't be real,” I whisper.

“ It is,” she nods seriously. “And you're coming round to the idea. We all felt it when you prayed to Sweeney.”

“ I...what?”

“ You prayed for him to find you, I assume? Even now he's searching through these woods for you. Such fear I sense in him, my sweet girl, such fear for your safety.”

“ Can you take me to him?”

“ It's not safe to. Czernobog is still hunting,” she tsks. “He'll be excluded from the hall of gods if he continues to be so selfish. We were supposed to discover who you were as a united front.”

“ And who am I?”

“ That, I do not know,” she gives a wry smile. “But something not entirely human. You should've succumbed to me in the bar but you did not.”

“ I nearly did,” I admit.

“ Such a worshipper you would be,” she's closer to me than before, huddled in this little nook. “If you still don't truly believe, would you allow me to show you my power?”

“ Wednesday showed me the weather control already.”

“ But your mind thinks it is fooled,” Bilquis says knowingly. “But your body's reactions? Not so easy to trick.”

“ You're not going to....do something bad to me, are you?”

“ No. It will only be a taster. Unlike Czernobog, I do not intend to claim you for my own without consulting the others.”

“ And would you...uh...claim me if they agreed?”

“ As my priestess, not as my sacrifice,” her eyes flare even brighter, the colour of sunshine. “You're too precious to be a sacrifice.”

I should say no. I should run and take my chances with Czernobog because there was some part of me that didn't trust her any more than I could trust Wednesday. I'd already felt something wrong before when she touched me and subjecting myself to that intentionally....

I wished Sweeney were here. I shouldn't have run from him. All he's ever done is try to protect me.

“ Hush,” she puts a finger on my forehead. “I know you're calling out to him. I won't hurt you, I swear it. I just want you to accept the truth of what we are. This is not a fallacy, this is not your mind breaking, this is not a dream. We are gods and we are real.”

“ Do it,” I say before my resolve breaks.

“ I am a queen of love, of lust,” Bilquis adjusts herself to lean over me. “I can inspire desire in anyone. Let me show you.”

And I submit, allowing her to kiss me and when she does, all I want is more. All I want is to rip her clothes off and fuck her on the damp earth. I want to explore every inch of her, watch her face twist in pleasure, let her use me as she sees fit. I try to put my hand on her neck to keep her close, to continue the kiss but she pulls away quickly and I'm left panting hard and squirming.

“ Do you see now?” the glow of her is brighter. “Hmm, almost but not quite.”

She presses her forehead to mine and whispers, “Tell me, sweet girl, tell me you love me.”

“ I love you.”

I have no idea why that bubbled to the surface but it burst out of me and I said it like some lovestruck teenager, like a character in a Mills & Boon book. In that moment I categorically meant it but as she moved back, I wondered just why I'd even said that.

And now Bilquis was decked in golden jewels, fine silks and I saw her for what she truly was.

A god.

“ Now you see,” she laughs softly. “Good, that will be useful. Now come, Czernobog is far enough away that I can take you to your leprechaun. I must admit, a queen such as myself is not too comfortable hiding in dirt for this long.”

She pulls me upright, out of the divot before leading me by the hand to the lake. She stops and puts her hands on my shoulders.

“ Think of Sweeney, hold whatever token he gave you and pray to him. Pray for him to find you. See the world around you and show him this location,” she whispers softly.

I place my hand over one breast where the coin is still nestled safely in my bra and look around myself, keeping that image in my mind's eye before thinking of Sweeney, imagining that he'll find me. After a minute, I'm not sure it's working but then I hear a great crashing through the trees and whirl around, hoping that it's not Czernobog again. 

“ Lasslin'!” Sweeney appears, running full pelt at me before coming to a dead stop like he's unsure whether it's right to touch me or not after my reaction earlier. “Are y'alright? I felt you call to me, I felt the fear you had.”

Even he was brighter than the dim surroundings of the gloomy woods, a russet sort of shimmer to his hair like copper in the sunlight and his eyes were like molten gold, swirling the more I looked into them. 

“ She's fine,” Bilquis answers, noticing my dumbstruck face. “She had a nasty turn with Czernobog trying to claim her as a blood sacrifice but I kept her safe.”

“ And why would yer do that?” Sweeney looks away from me sharply. “I can tell ya've had yer hands on her.”

“ Only to make her believe. Look at her expression, mad one. She sees you on some level as more than others. Not quite as much as she sees me now but it's there.”

Sweeney's eyes flick back and he sees the truth of that, “Did she harm ya?”

“ No,” I shake my head. “She saved me.”

“ I'm not the enemy, Sweeney,” she purrs. “I abide by the rules of the old gods and the council.”

“ Fuck the council, yer not havin' her.”

“ She's not yours to claim.”

“ I don't care. Nobody should have fuckin' Wednesday interested in them. It only ends in death. I'll be takin' her home now, if she wants me to do that.”

I nod and go to his side, turning to face Bilquis, “Thank you, for helping me.”

“ Until we meet again, sweet girl. A taste of you is not enough,” she laughs to herself before her golden aura vanishes into the darkness as she walks away. 

“ She didn't fuck ya, did she?” Sweeney asks nervously.

“ She kissed me.”

“ Good, then y'aint bound to her. Come on. Fuck me, ya had me worried sick, girl,” he hesitates, holding out his hand so I can take it of my own volition, which I do.

It's huge, covers mine easily and it's warm. I can feel the roughness of his palm, the callouses around the knuckles that tell of his many previous fights. I'm not afraid any more though.

Sure I was when he was squaring off with Wednesday but Sweeney...I know he'd never hurt me. 

“ Sweeney?” I ask, as he leads me out of the woods into the parking lot of Jack's bar and towards his pick up.

“ Uh huh?” he looks down at me.

“ Can we go to yours?”

“ Mine? Why?”

“ I'd feel safer there. Wednesday knows where I live. Czernobog might too.”

“ Sounds grand. I'd feel better if yer were somewhere I could keep an eye on ya. Don't go runnin' off again, okay?”

“ It was just overwhelming.”

“ I know,” he sighs. “I didn't want yer to find out like that. I certainly didn't want yer to run off into the fuckin' woods at night with a horde a' gods after yer. Now I know how me Ma felt when I'd fuck off into the woods to play alone. My heart's still racin'.”

“ I'm fine,” I squeeze his hand. 

“ Also, could yer not have saved the kissing Bilquis thing until I was there?” he jokes, I imagine trying to lighten his mood.

“ I didn't plan it.”

“ Shame.”

“ Sweeney!”

“ I bet it was so fuckin' hot,” he shakes his head. “Ah well. In yer get.”

He opens the truck door for me and I clamber in before he gets into the driver's seat.

  


**

  


When we reach Sweeney's house, he uses all the locks on the doors and checks every window. He's taking it very seriously.

“ So....the spear?” I probe after we fall into an awkward silence after the final lock slots in. 

“ Spear is better to fight with,” he shrugs. “Sword gets people too close.”

“ Was that Gae Bolg?” I try to remember my mythology.

He wrinkles his nose up, wincing at my pronunciation. “Gáe Bulg but good try I suppose. Nah, yer confusin' me with Cúchulainn. He's a fuckin' prick by the way. Always has to show off at parties. That was the spear of Lugh if ya have to call it somethin'.”

_ “ _ Are you Lugh?”

_ “ _ Once,” he says enigmatically and doesn't elaborate, closing the conversation down.

_ “ _ Sweeney, talk to me. I need to understand,” I touch his arm and he leans into the contact.

It's then I become very aware that we're inches apart and I'm still a little worked up from Bilquis. I can smell the clinging scent of the woods on him along with a sheen of something like spice. 

_ “ _ I can't talk about it now. Yer overwhelmed enough. Tomorrow, I promise,” he says softly. “Go upstairs n' get in the guest bed, lasslin'. Been a long night. Yer need to sleep off whatever Bilquis did.”

_ “ _ Do I?” my voice comes out huskier than I mean to. 

The cords in Sweeney's neck twitch as he grits his jaw and he swallows, “Don't play with me, girl. Get upstairs.”

My hand moves up his arm, tracing up the thick set muscles and his other hand clamps over mine, stopping the progress. 

_ “ _ Don't,” he warns. “You'd regret it.”

_ “ _ Why?”

_ “ _ Yer under Bilquis' influence. It's not a natural state. This? You and I? Can't happen. Yer want me tomorrow, by all means, climb aboard but not now. I've got better standards than to take advantage of some lust drugged, very attractive-”

But I've lost all control of myself. The desire that Bilquis had left me with has centred on Sweeney and I slipped my other hand around his neck before dragging him to me, kissing him hard. He flails, falling off balance as he tries to push me away and we crash down to the ground. 

I straddle him and he seems to give up for a moment, kissing me back with equal passion. One hand roams into my hair whilst the other wraps around my waist, keeping me close.

_ “ _ We need to stop,” he manages to collect himself, his voice a little hoarse. “I don't have the willpower to hold back much longer. Oh fuck, girl, yer making this difficult.”

_ “ _ Sweeney,” it's almost begging at this point as I move against him, desperate for contact. 

_ “ _ No, lasslin',  _ Suibhne _ ,” his gaze is intense. “Say it. I wanna hear you say it.”

_ “ _ Suibhne,” I form the unfamiliar name. 

I'm rolled under him in a flash, his giant frame covering my own as he kisses me, devours me with a lust that seemed equal to my own. The second I go to unbutton his shirt though, he rears back with a shout. 

_ “ _ Shit!” he stands up, backing away from me. “Fuck! I  _ hate _ this!”

_ “ _ You hate this?” I clumsily get to my feet. “Did I do something wrong?”

_ “ _ Not this, I mean....fuck,” he hisses, ruffling his mohawk in frustration making it stick up even more. “I hate ya want me now. I wish it was natural. I don't want artificial desire.”

_ “ _ Sweeney, I need you,” my chest is heaving as I say it and when I drag my eyes down, I see the obvious strain in his jeans. “You need me too.”

_ “ _ Not now,” it's almost a growl. “What I  _ need _ is a cold fuckin' shower.”

_ “ _ Can I join?”

He lets out a grunt of vexation before pointing to the stairs, “Just go now. Upstairs. Go.”

I walk towards him and he backs up into the wall, scared of me approaching. After a string of very harsh swear words, he picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder and walks upstairs with me. 

_ “ _ You know this is hot, right?” I giggle, drunk on my own hormones. 

_ “ _ You're making this worse,” he groans before getting into the guest room and dumping me on the bed unceremoniously.

Before I can do anything, he bolts out of the room, going into his and I hear the door lock and something heavy scraping on the floor. He's that desperate to get away he's barricaded himself in.

I just flop back on the mattress, the fog clearing a little and I feel ashamed that I'd forced myself so much on him. I knew I was under Bilquis' power but still....

But as I settled back into the pillows, trying to calm myself, the memory of him on top of me, between my legs and that intensity to his eyes, the coarseness of his voice haunted me until I finally managed to drift off, unsatisfied and wanting.


	6. Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up after the events of last night feeling awkward as hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: More excessive swearing
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- NB xx

I wake up the next morning, not entirely sure if I've dreamt the events of last night.

When my vision settles and I realise I'm in Sweeney's spare room, however, I bolt upright in the bed remembering what had happened. Czernobog tried to kill me, Bilquis kissed me and....and I flung myself on Sweeney. In fact I was very close to fucking the living daylights out of him.

No wonder I'd woken up a little worked up.

I crawl out of the bed, picking one of Sweeney's shirts from the wardrobe that fit more like a short dress and fold up my dirt covered clothes in a corner before stripping the bed which I'd made a complete mess of.

I wondered if he was up yet but given the humming I heard downstairs not two seconds later, he must be. I'd have to face the music sooner or later....

I went down to the living area, my bare feet making barely any noise on the timber steps before I saw Sweeney in his kitchen, kneading dough. My brain shorted out as I just watched the muscles across his back and shoulders, visible due to the tank top, ripple with the movements.

Was I still under the effects of Bilquis or was this all my own lusting at this point? I couldn't tell so I kept myself at a respectable distance.

“Ya just gonna hang around there?” Sweeney calls over his shoulder. “Or are yer gonna come say good mornin'.”

“I....yeah, sorry,” I hurriedly join him, embarrassed.

“Yer don't need to be shy around me, lasslin',” he shoots me a knowing glance. “I can take a bit a' rejection.”

“Rejection?”

“Over last night. We both know yer weren't in yer right mind then.”

“Sweeney, this is just....it's all....it's a lot,” I finish weakly. “I don't know what to make of it. Gods are real? I mean, you promised you'd tell me today who you are, didn't you?”

“Aye, I did,” he puts the dough in a bowl and covers it with a cloth before washing his hands of flour. “Let's sit down. This'll be a lot to explain.”

He goes to his armchair and I'm impressed he manages to fold his huge frame into it so neatly but sitting there with his legs splayed out like some king on a throne....wait, he _had_ been saying all along he was a king.

“Ya said it last night. I'm Lugh and I was the High King of Ireland, way before Jesus was a fuckin' thought in anyone's mind.”

“So why are you going by Sweeney?”

“Suibhne,” he corrects and I remember when I'd said that the last time and my thighs rubbed together uncomfortably. “Gods...gods evolve, they change. Ya see, girl, gods are an idea n' when that idea grows n' spreads n' people start worshippin' it, gods are born. I _was_ King Lugh but when I died, I took on a legendary status n' became what people thought I was. Gradually those legends mixed with others n' Lugh evolved into King Suibhne. Suibhne turned into part of the fae folk n' now I'm stuck being a fuckin' leprechaun. What a demotion.”

“So when Wednesday says there are many Jesuses, what does he mean?”

“Because everyone has an idea of who Jesus is. Ya think the real Jesus was the white man that ya see in American churches? Fuck off was he. He lived in bloody Israel for fuck's sake. But that idea spreads n' now ya got yer white Jesus, black African Jesus, Greek Orthodox Jesus, Mexican Jesus....it goes on.”

“So are there more versions of you around?”

“Yeah but none look like me. There's a Sweeney in Ireland. I'm the Sweeney brought over by Irish immigrants. Sweeney's the anglicised version a' Suibhne by the way, I can see yer confused.”

“And Wednesday is the version of Odin brought over by Vikings?”

“Yer gettin' it,” he smiles crookedly.

“Right, I think I'm starting to understand,” I shift on the couch. “Every god here is one that people have brought over with them, except Native American gods I assume, so does that mean you're closer to the original god? That the Sweeney in Ireland is even more evolved from you?”

“Aye. Heard he ain't as much of a looker,” Sweeney shrugs, letting his knees fall further open until he's reclining like royalty in his floral patterned armchair. “Yer takin' this remarkably well _Sionnachín._ ”

“What does that mean? I've heard you call me that before.”

“Little fox. Ya got a curious spirit, a lingering wildness and a good survival knack. Not many folk escape Czernobog.”

“Your coin helped,” I fish it out of my bra. “Here, it's been over a day.”

He holds up his hand and shakes his head, “Keep it for now. I can stomach a bit a' misfortune to make sure yer safe.”

“Sweeney...why are you helping me so much? I know Wednesday said you're outnumbered.”

He sighs before standing up and taking to his knees in front of me, hands resting on my lower thighs, “At first, I just knew ya were one a' mine. Somewhere very recently in yer blood is my kin folk. I told ya a king looks after his subjects. Then...then I started to like ya n' not because of this shite but you as a person. Ya make me laugh, ya listen to me, yer fuckin' gorgeous....I don't want them gettin' anywhere near ya.”

“You said to me in the woods that if I slept with Bilquis I would've been bound to her. Does that hold true for all gods?”

“Nah, just her. For the rest a' us it's prayer that's the big thing.”

“And how do I pray to you?”

He stiffens for a moment and I can't tell if it's surprise or anger he's feeling. His eyes meet mine and there's something fierce, something untamed behind the gaze.

“Don't fuckin' play with me, lasslin'. Don't _ever_ offer a god prayer lightly. It's the fuel we exist on. If ya even think for one fuckin' second I'm gonna let you pray to me, yer deranged.”

“Why not?!” I bristle with indignation.

“It's dangerous,” he grabs my face in his huge hands. “Please, just drop it.”

“Just tell me in case I need your help and you're not there.”

“Only if ya promise not to do the ritual,” he looks at my stubborn face and just sighs. “Fresh bread n' cream on the windowsill at night. That's how ya pray to a leprechaun n' you'll get luck's favour....and summon me in the process.”

“Is that all?”

“What did ya expect? Putting out a bowl a' Lucky Charms?” he frowns. “But _Sionnachín_ if ya pray to me even once, yer mine. You'll _always_ be mine. No god could ever have your faith like I could n' it would always be diluted fer them.”

“And is that bad?”

He huffs, the pads of his thumbs unconsciously stroking my cheeks, “I'm not a god to pray to. I'm...I'm a fuckin' disaster, lasslin'. I'm a joke amongst the American council. Binding yerself to me ain't gonna do ya any favours in Wednesday's campaign for yer faith.”

“Fuck Wednesday, I can do what I want with who I believe in,” I snarl and Sweeney looks taken aback. “And I think he's a vile piece of shit.”

Sweeney bursts out into laughter, letting go of my face and he squeezes my knees affectionately, “Aye I told ya he were a cunt on that first night.”

“Czernobog tried to kill me so I don't want to be anywhere near him, Bilquis has an agenda but seems to be the most reasonable and Mr Nancy hasn't made a move yet.”

“Oh he will,” Sweeney's eyes darken. “Eight legged little fuck. He's much more slippery than any a' them. Be careful around him.”

“Who is he?”

“Anansi, the African spider god. Trickster. Like I say, be careful.”

I think I surprise him when I pull him from his kneeling position up onto the couch with me. I feel silly with him down there and I want to ask this question on an even keel.

“I'll be careful. Sweeney, do you know what I am? Why is everyone so interested in me? I'm just a tourist.”

“Yer far more than that,” he brushes my hair back over my ear. “I know a little but I've not got the whole story. Ya see, _mo_ _Sionnachín,_ ya have-”

But my phone interrupts his revelation. Jack is calling me and I jolt looking at the time.

“Shit! I'm late for work!” I spring up before looking down. “Shit! I have no clean clothes!”

“I'll swing ya by yer trailer. Come on. I'll wash yer clothes here later,” Sweeney chivvies me towards the front door.

It was like the interruption made him clam up because he didn't attempt to speak to me the whole car ride over. Even when I tried to prompt him he'd shake his head and say it wasn't the right time to talk about it.

I may have sulked until we finally hit the trailer park and he grabbed my hand as I went to get out.

“Be safe tonight. I ain't gonna be there at Jack's. I've got a bone to pick with Czernobog,” his expression was wild, almost primal.

“Maybe I should be telling _you_ to be safe,” I laugh softly. “Don't die, Sweeney.”

“Never,” his eyes become more mischievous now. “I live for the day when I get a repeat of you underneath me. Now go on, lasslin'. Jack'll fuckin' bollock ya to high heaven if you're any later.”

I get out, rapidly dress and sprint the whole way down the layby to the Crocodile Bar. I'm a complete panting mess when I get in and Jack looks as if she wants to give me a stern telling off but thinks better of it.

“What the hell happened to you?” she settles on.

“Sorry, long night,” I gulp air down. “Wednesday cornered me near the trailer park. Didn't sleep much after that interaction.”

“Shit, he didn't hurt ya, did he?” she gets defensive. “I'll throw his greasy ass so far down the road he'll skid back to whatever hole he crawled out of.”

“No, he didn't hurt me but he scared me. Jack, I know you hate Sweeney but I feel safer when he's around. Do you think I could ask him to escort me home some nights?”

Jack sighs and flings the bar towel over her shoulder, “I guess. He ain't been nearly as bad since you've been around and I can see he genuinely likes you. Are you still wanting to work here if Wednesday is scaring you?”

“Yeah,” I nod firmly. “Fuck the old bastard. He's not running me out.”

“Attagirl,” she pats my arm smiling. “He gives you any problems I'll deal with him myself. Wednesday I can handle on his own.”

“Thanks Jack,” I put my apron on and set to work.

Wednesday doesn't come in that night, nor do Bilquis and Czernobog but Mr Nancy is sat in a booth, his arms across the back of the seat and one leg crooked over the other. Sweeney's words are ringing in the back of my mind to be careful so I try to have the barest interaction with him but he's good and I mean, _very good_ at twisting the situation so Jack's busy with someone else and I have to take his order now.

When I set down the cocktail that was a blue gradient down to red, matching the colours of his suit, his fingers lingered on mine again as he took it from me.

“I know why you're here and I know what you're doing,” I say firmly.

“Do you, my dear?” Mr Nancy says politely. “In that case meet me outside and I'll give you my offer. I'm not vulgar like Czernobog and although I'm sure you're good in the sack, that's not my gig. Won't you spare an old god a few minutes?”

“I don't trust you.”

“Is that because of what big Red has said? He and I aren't exactly fuckin' pen pals for sure but I'm not going to trick you, despite what he says.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“You'll have to meet me outside for that. Jack's just realising now that she hasn't told you to take a break so she'll be back in a few minutes to let you go.”

I look behind me to see if Jack was coming, “And how would you know-”

But Mr Nancy is gone when I look back and his cocktail glass is empty.

I shake off the creepy feeling that was starting to set me on edge before moving back to the bar. I didn't know what to think right now.

“Hey kiddo, sorry I got caught up. Your feet must be aching. Take a break,” Jack shouts to me and I tense up.

Mr Nancy was very good at tailoring situations to his advantage it seems. I'm not entirely sure whether he's engineered Jack to forget about my break until now.

“I'll be back in a sec then. Getting some air,” I reply, going out of the side door and moving to the parking lot.

This was a bad idea, a monumentally bad idea but if Mr Nancy was already making this meeting happen, if I tried to prevent it, he'd find another way. I needed to get this over with.

“So glad you could come,” he purrs as he spots me.

“Not like I had a choice,” I grumble, folding my arms defiantly.

“Now that's a fire,” Mr Nancy chuckles. “A big ol' stubborn raging fire in that soul. The others don't see it but I do. There's a fury in you waiting to get out. You're tired of being told what to do by rich motherfuckers who haven't worked a day in their life. That's why you're here, huh? Oh you call it a sabbatical, a vacation even but you needed to get away before you drowned one of those assholes in the water cooler, right?”

“Not many people like their jobs,” I shrug.

“You wanna know what's waiting for you if you go back home?” he's approaching me, two feet away now. “Grey. A grey fuckin' life. You'll work for men you hate, men who'll want to slap you in the role of wife, mother. How much more alive have you felt being here, knowing what we are at last?”

I don't answer. He already knows the answer.

“And here you are, facing down gods that had men and women trembling to behold in our time. You could've run after Czernobog tried to beat your skull in but you've not. There's a fighting spirit there, there's a sense of wonderment there and if you'd let me just have a little taste of that, the things I could give to you.”

“And what would you give me? What's so good of an offer that you're defying the council?”

He laughs, soft and trilling, “Nothing get past you, does it? Smart, I like that. My offer is this. Praying to me will give you a cunning beyond anything mortal, the ability to twist folk to your whim, the ability to manipulate situations to your advantage. You'd never want for anything and you sure as hell won't work for some rich fuck ever again. I'll also tell you stories, stories only my kin were allowed to hear, the stories of the African gods, the creation of my homeland.”

As much as I knew he was just charming me, my natural curiosity at being able to know long lost stories was piqued. I had to fight that urge though.

“I can see you're intrigued,” he smiles before closing the gap and now his hands are on my arms, not in a threatening way but in a way to force me to make eye contact. “No more offices, no more suburbia. You could live wherever you wanted, _be_ whatever you wanted. A life free from expectations.”

“I'll think about it,” I reply flatly.

His face splits into a wide grin, “You're so much fun. You love mischief as much as I do, I'd wager. You and that giant redhead wouldn't be a good match.”

“And what about the other gods?”

“Trying to frighten me with them? Oh no, my dear. See, I don't give a fuck if they throw me out. There's always a rebellion to stoke somewhere, a new con artist to train, liberation to be had. I do much better than those old crochety motherfuckers clinging to their days of blood and sacrifice.”

“Certainly one of the better offers I've had,” I quip.

Mr Nancy didn't scare me like Wednesday or Czernobog but he was definitely not a god to be trifled with. He was immensely clever and that was disconcerting in of itself.

“I'm sure it has been,” he laughs. “Czernobog's sacrifice, Bilquis' pleasure priestess, Odin's warrior or Sweeney's....Sweeney's handler I'm guessing. Not a great selection. I'll leave you to think, my dear. These decisions should not be taken lightly.”

He frees one of my hands from its folded position and kisses the back of it before I blink and he vanishes. I don't know where the hell he's gone until I spot a blue and red spider crawling up the wall of the Crocodile bar.

Must be him, I guess.

I just shake my head, trying to be calm around all the weird stuff I keep seeing before going back into the bar and finishing my shift.

**

Back at my trailer, I'm restless.

I don't like being alone right now and the small space feels oppressive compared to Sweeney's two storey cabin. I'm on edge.

I keep thinking about all these gods who want me to be theirs and it frightens me to have so much importance when I was happy fading into the background. I liked my travelling life but Mr Nancy was right, I _didn't_ want to go home. I didn't want to get back into that office job and become numb to everything again.

Most of all, my thoughts kept coming back to Sweeney as the only god who was trying to actively discourage me from getting too involved. Sweeney who'd been so protective of me, looked after me, never crossed the line of inappropriateness and backed off when I was under the influence of Bilquis when it would've been so easy to take advantage.

I realised then that I was starting to care for him a lot.

I missed him.

I was worried about him.

He was chasing after Czernobog after all. I didn't even have a way to contact him to know if he was okay.

But wait.... _yes I did_.

I could go to the all night store and get bread and cream. I could put it on my sorry excuse for a windowsill and then he'd have to visit me. I could know whether he was alive still.

I knew that would mean that I'd be bound to him but thinking it through, I didn't feel like that was a bad thing. Against all the other gods, I knew he'd defend me, I knew he'd fight for me because I'd seen how ready he was to battle Wednesday without a second thought.

After looking out of my window and seeing a flash of something glowing scarlet in the treeline at the back of the trailer park, I knew I couldn't wait any longer.

I made up my mind.

I borrowed Jack's car to get the items and then placed them on the windowsill, thinking hard of Sweeney, praying to Sweeney.

“Please come to me. Please let me know you're alive. I don't care about luck or gain, I just want to know you're okay. Please come back to me safely, Suibhne.”

I didn't even know if these were the right words but I said them anyway. I left my window open, chancing that the other gods wouldn't come and try to break into my trailer and settled down on my bench, researching mythology until my eyes couldn't stay open any more and my head drooped onto the table in front of me.

I'm woken by a soft shake and I jerk up to see Sweeney, stooping in my low trailer with a split lip and bruises on his cheek. Even with the injuries he looks healthier than I've ever seen him. He also looks sad, so sad and I don't know why.

“Oh _Sionnachín,_ ” he says softly. “Why?”

“Because I didn't know if you were alright and I had no way to find you or contact you,” I stand up. “This is my fault you're getting hurt.”

“No, lasslin'. Czernobog had it coming sooner or later,” he smiles slightly. “Yer such a fuckin' idiot, ya know that? I have a phone.”

“Well I didn't know the number!”

His hand strokes my cheek, “Were ya really that worried for me?”

“Yes.”

“So worried you bound yerself to me?”

“Yes. I didn't do it out of fear or needing a bodyguard. I just want you to be safe, Sweeney.”

“I don't deserve a follower, least of all you.”

“Well now you've got one,” I stand my ground. “And you're not getting rid of me.”

“ _Sionnachín...Mo Ghrá thú_ ,” he whispers, golden eyes brimming with emotion.

“And what does that mean?”

“I'll show you.”

He leans down and kisses me.


	7. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You soon find out you shouldn't just be afraid of the old gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor peril
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- NB xx

I don't ever recall being kissed this gently, with such reverence but I briefly forget about everything; about Wednesday, about the other gods, about the fact I was a stranger in a state I knew barely anything about.

Then he jerks away with a hiss, touching his lip gingerly, “Ah fuckin' bollocking shite! Piss on Bran, that hurts!”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, lasslin' just a bit beaten up,” he twitches his mouth into a half smile, careful not to aggravate his injury. “Maybe raincheck on the kissin' for now. Fer the record, I still think yer fuckin' mad to have prayed to me n' I'm angry ya did.”

“Don't be angry with me for caring about you,” I scowl.

“I'll be fuckin' angry if I wanna be fuckin' angry,” he shoots back, picking me up and putting me on the bed. “Signin' yer life away to fae folk never ends well. Now stay there. I wasn't done with the other gods.”

“You're not going back out there, are you?!” I sit up straight and he sighs, trying to stand up and banging his head on the low ceiling.

“I need to. They need to understand yer not a piece a' property to control. Yer not theirs.”

“Because I'm yours?”

He takes a great shuddering breath and his golden eyes glimmer brightly for just a second, “Yer fuckin' killin' me here, _Sionnachín._ Stop declarin' yerself to me. Ya don't know what yer doin', how ancient this fuckin' rite is, between god and worshipper and how deep that bond starts to wind when ya say shit like that. I have a chance now to bluff the Allfather that yer still pure of faith but if ya keep making declarations, he'll know I have yours.”

“Are you afraid of him?”

“More than ya realise,” he says quietly. “I'm in his debt, I owe him. I can't get outta that compact unless one of us dies or he releases me or I trick him into releasing me.”

He sits down on the bed, his weight making it bow before dragging a hand down his face. Some of the weariness I was used to seeing was creeping back into his features.

“How do you trick him into releasing you?” I ask.

“Food,” he replies simply. “If you eat food made and given by fae, ya belong to them. Fuckin' cunt is too wise to that though.”

“Let me trick him then,” I pipe up. “I can do that. I can free you, Sweeney.”

“Forget it for now. More important shit is happenin',” he strokes my cheek gently. “Stay here, stay safe n' for fuck's sake, _don't_ summon me again.”

He reaches over to the newspaper on my nightstand and takes a pen scribbling something before flinging it towards me. I can see he's written his number on there.

“Use that next time,” he snorts before standing up. “I may be old but I'm not inept.”

“How old are you?”

“Lost count around 3,000,” he shrugs. “Think I'm closer to 4,000 years old about now but who knows for definite?”

“Wow, okay. That's an age gap.”

“Aye, extreme cradle snatchin' on my part,” he laughs. “This is gonna hurt like fuck but gimme a kiss goodbye, lasslin'.”

As softly as I can, I kiss him and he rests his forehead against mine as if he's steeling himself. More than once he opens his mouth to speak but closes it again.

“Fuck. I wanna say so much to ya but it'll only make the bond more solid if I do. I need to go before I fuck my own plan over.”

“I know you have to go but Sweeney, I think I've seen Czernobog hanging around the trailer park earlier. How can I defend myself if he tries to get me? I don't feel safe being here any more.”

“Lemme just.....” he rummages around in what seems like thin air before he produces a sword as if he had it in his hand all along. “This was my sword, Fragarach. The sword of winds. The answerer. Before me it was Nuada's, the first High King. It'll cut through any shield or armour, it'll inflict wounds that never heal and it'll give you command of the air. Point this at anyone's throat and they'll be compelled to tell the truth also. Ya don't need to be a master swordsman to wield it. Use it on Czernobog if he tries to attack you.”

I took the sword, feeling the heavy weight of the pommel that was adorned with gold and leather, seeing the steel of the blade swirl as if it were clouds on a windy day. I was entranced with it, it felt good to hold.

“Suits ya,” Sweeney remarks with a lopsided grin. “There's somethin' about a woman with a sword that always gets me goin'.”

“Does it now?”

He makes a frustrated growl, “I swear to Bran I'm making this worse for myself, right now. I can't give ya the worship that I want to _Sionnachín_ , it would only-”

“-bind us more. I get it,” I smile. “I'm not offended.”

“But once this is done? I want to hear my name on your lips again, the way ya said it yesterday. Now, I'm off. If ya get in trouble, use Fragarach. If ya get in _serious_ trouble, pray usin' the coin. If ya get in _life threatening_ trouble, I'll give ya my address so you can flee there. It's protected against the others.”

“Can't I just go there now?”

“I didn't realise you were movin' in already,” he raises an amused eyebrow before scribbling his address down on the newspaper.

“Shut up, I just...”

“I know, little fox, I know,” he takes my hands and kisses the back of them, his beard tickling my skin. “Yer scared and ya should be but I'll protect you, with my life even...for what little it's worth.”

Before I can correct him on the value I placed on him, he strode off out of my trailer and I was locking the door behind him. I didn't know what else to do other than sleep so I crawled into bed fully clothed, expecting that I might need to run at any moment and clutched the sword to me like it was a teddy bear.

I took a while to drift off and the sun was starting to rise just as I fell asleep.

**

I had no warning when my door was kicked in.

Hands descended on me, wrenching me from the bed and I screamed, slashing Sweeney's sword at my attackers. I managed to catch a few of them, blood spilling all over me and the bed but there were too many and they hauled me out, kicking and spitting.

They tried to take Fragarach from me but it wouldn't budge from my hand no matter how much they pulled. Instead they punched me in the temple so hard my head rocked back and my vision tunnelled, but luckily I didn't black out and they continued to pry my fingers back. It surprised me when the sword disappeared and I suddenly had a knotwork cuff on my arm that had no hinge or clasp. Must've been a defence mechanism to stop it being stolen.

“Just get her in the limo,” one guy yells, clutching his arm that was bleeding profusely.

I have no fight left in me, my head is spinning from the blow and I can't get my feet underneath me with the way I'm being dragged. I'm thrown into a car that I presumed was the limo and I sprawl on the floor, my stomach lurching as it starts to drive.

“Oh my poor darling,” a woman's voice says, picking me up and putting me on the seat.

I must've been hit hard because when I blinked, I thought David Bowie was staring at me. There was that iconic look from the Life on Mars video but the more I stared, the more I took in the androgynous features that leaned toward the feminine. “They really did a number on you.”

“Looking at them, she gave as good as she got,” a male voice and I had trouble focusing on the figure half hidden in shadow across from me with his arms splayed across the back of the seat.

“A fighter,” Miss David Bowie smiles. “No wonder they're after you. I bet you're frightened, aren't you little dove? There's no need to be frightened here.”

“Sure, setting your goons on me whilst I'm asleep is just good natured fun,” I hiss.

“This one is gonna be feisty, Media,” the male laughs before leaning forward.

He's wearing leggings with a skirt over them, a batwing sleeve top and his hair is ridged in four spikes down his head. I've never seen someone look more like a stereotype of what a person thinks a Gen Z kid is.

“Damn right,” I sit up straighter and the woman, Media, steps back, sitting with the young guy. “So tell me what the fuck I'm doing here and who you are.”

“You think you're in charge here?” the guy laughs and Media hits him in the chest with her delicate hand.

“Enough. Forgive the Technical Boy, he can be uncouth sometimes,” she chides. “Forgive the rough housing also. We just needed to get you away. There were several gods around the border of your home ready to strike. We saved you.”

“And who are you exactly?”

“We're the new gods, bitch. We're the guys Wednesday wants to eliminate using you,” the Technical Boy starts vaping, green clouds eke out that flutter with what look like 1s and 0s.

“The...new gods?”

“People couldn't worship bloodthirsty tyrants forever,” Media supplies. “I am Media, I am the god of television, of radio, of music, of social media. I am everything you've ever consumed. I am every fandom you've ever obsessed over and every song that's ever inspired emotion in you. The Technical Boy is the god of invention, innovation. That phone in your pocket that you research the old gods on? That you cling to like a lifeline? That's him you're worshipping.”

“And thank you very much, sweetheart,” the Technical Boy winks. “Your worship earlier was just fucking beautiful to both of us and Mr World.”

“Mr World? Wait, the World Wide Web?”

“No, idiot,” he sneers. “Globalisation. He knows everything about everybody in this world, all the dirty little secrets of your life, he's behind the scenes of everything.”

“I don't have that many secrets.”

“Sure you do. That's why Wednesday wants you. Plus we know your dirty habits too. Tsk tsk. Always gives me a good laugh to see human porn trends.”

“Stop antagonising the poor girl,” Media gives a disapproving look. “We're not here to be enemies. We're offering a different way. Join us instead, fight against Wednesday and you'll keep everything you enjoy in modern life. Wednesday will only return the world to war and blood and sacrifice. Surely you don't want that?”

“What I _want_ is to be left alone,” I glare.

“Left alone with the leprechaun, huh?” the Technical Boy blows more smoke and I now recognise the binary code flickering in it. “You researched him _a lot_ , didn't you?”

“She's almost his,” Media leans forward, tracing a finger over the cuff. “I can feel it.”

“Mad Sweeney is Wednesday's pet. We can't allow it,” he says, more to her than me.

“I can free him,” I interject. “He's in Wednesday's debt but I can free him. If I do that, will you leave us alone?”

“You care very deeply for him, don't you?” Media takes my hand and I let her, trying to get her on side as she squeezes it. “We will have to confer with Mr World first before a compact can be struck.”

“What about you?” I nod at the Technical Boy. “I free Sweeney and you'll let us get on with our lives?”

“Not gonna work that way,” he kisses his teeth with his lip. “Wednesday still wants war with us. You're his ace card and we can't just let you run around.”

“If I give my faith to Sweeney fully then he can't use me though,” I argue. “I won't be an asset.”

“Then you won't be an asset to us either. Mr World's been watching you since the day you were old enough to use the family computer and we need you.”

“It's not necessary,” Media shoots him a look.

“Not necessary, my ass,” he flips her off. “You're always too soft. A sucker for a good love story. Newsflash, Media! THIS IS WAR!”

“I'm well aware,” before my eyes she morphs into Sarah Connor from The Terminator, muscles and all. “We're almost at the base. Mr World can decide.”

The rest of the journey is conducted in awkward silence. I'm praying hard in my own head, not daring to touch the coin in case it gave it away. I didn't think the coin would do what the sword did somehow; it could be easily taken.

They ushered me out into a building that looked more like an old fashioned war room with dusty monitors and big buttons to push. Was I in a bunker right now?  
“I wondered when we would meet at last,” comes a voice that's edged with something digital. “Let me introduce myself, I'm Mr World.”

A man in a suit with a large brimmed hat wanders up and extend his hand. I don't take it. I don't trust him. Something was already setting me on edge about him. Media and the Technical Boy I could handle but Mr World scared me instantly and I had no idea why.

“You don't need to fear me, girl. I've been watching over you for some time.”

“So I hear,” I respond curtly.

“Now there's no need to be rude,” he wags a finger. “I'm the reason you are where you are today. You should be thanking me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The education you received, I pushed you towards that. The relationships you started online, I put those in your path too. I even made sure you got that office job. They weren't going to accept you, you know. I switched the acceptance letters around with the best candidate and they were too embarrassed to ever correct it. I wanted you to be done with life where you were, I wanted you to be ready to travel. It's no coincidence you ran out of money in Illinois either. Media's been advertising to you, making you buy things that whittled your money down until you finally had to stop travelling. Everything has been about getting you here in this moment.”

I just simply blinked. I didn't know what to make of that. Was he seriously telling me my life had been planned from a child?

“You're not here for a sinister purpose. I let you meet Wednesday first to see how violent, how barbaric the old gods can be. I hear you had to flee from Czernobog particularly. I needed you to know what side to choose in this war.”

“And why would I choose a side that's manipulated me from the start?”

“If I didn't do it, the gods of your city would've and you would've been on the side of savagery, of blood. We are the better way, we are the new gods and we will endure. Work with me. Work with me and we'll give you that life with the leprechaun you want. You can be happy together once this war is done.”

“What would I have to do?”

I had no allegiance to Wednesday, I had no allegiance to any god that'd introduced themselves to me except Sweeney. I didn't want to return to the Dark Ages sure but I also didn't like the new gods very much. Sadly they were offering me a better deal if Wednesday truly wanted me to fuel a war.

“Keep putting your faith in us,” he circles me. “Worship your phone, worship the TV, worship the internet. Worship us.”

“And what if I want to worship Sweeney?”

“I heard you through the microphone on your cell whilst you were in the limo. If you free Sweeney, you can be his but only if he joins us. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

“The Technical Boy can escort you back,” Mr World nods. “I look forward to our partnership.”

“Can't say the same,” I mutter and he laughs softly but it comes across as sinister.

“Until we meet again, my darling,” Media is now wearing the appearance of Lucy Ricardo and she blows me a kiss.

I walk out with the Technical Boy, back into the limo and I stare resolutely at the window, even though I can't see anything out of it due to the tinting. He just sits there, watching me as the car speeds on.

Finally he breaks the silence, “You know Wednesday has tried to do this with other people before, right? You're not special.”

“I never thought I was,” I glare at him. “I just have you folks telling me I am. As far as I was aware I was just a travelling nobody.”

His mouth quirks into a smile, “You're a lot more fiery in person than what I see of your digital life. It's cute.”

“Spying on me too?”

“I've better things to do but I've dropped in occasionally. Remember the unveiling of your companies new social media platform? I was there at that party. I saw you, in the red dress with your fitness tracker watch and your brand new phone. You've never realised how much you worship me. Seeing you decked out in all that tech? I wouldn't have said no, sweetheart. As you are now with the stench of old gods and rituals? Less appealing.”

“Good,” I fire back. “You're not my type.”

“I'm everybody's type. I'm anything anybody wants me to be. I'm the god of invention and innovation, baby. You've even been worshipping me every time you use a high tech sex toy, you bad bad girl,” he snorts before leaning back and obnoxiously letting his legs fall open.

He doesn't have anywhere near the regality of Sweeney and it comes across as arrogant and cocky. I shake my head with a large sigh, not rising to his bait.

“He won't want you when you age, the leprechaun,” he tries to rile me up in a different way. “He'll never get older and you'll just wrinkle into a pile of dead synapses and blocked tubing.”

“Then he can pay for me to have younger men with his infinite gold. I don't care,” I fold my arms. “Why are you so interested anyway? Pissed off I don't like you?”

“I find it fun, actually,” he laughs. “I find _you_ fun. Clinging to both worlds, unwilling to give up either. What a mindfuck of a person you are.”

I roll my eyes, “Are we nearly back yet?”

“Pretending that we don't frighten you, that this whole thing doesn't frighten you,” he continues.

I don't know how I do it but the cuff transforms back into the sword as I stand up, leaning over him so suddenly with it that he shrinks back in alarm. I have the point of the blade to his throat and he swallows nervously.

“This sword apparently makes you tell me the truth so tell me why Mr World is interested in me?”

“Because you're not human,” his eyes are wide. “Because you have a power you're only just beginning to tap into and if he can get that on his side then he can rip apart the old gods once and for all.”

“What am I?” I growl.

“I don't know. _He_ doesn't know. You smell of the old world and also the new. I don't understand it. It scares us so we want to control it.”

“Thank you for the first honest thing you've said to me all day,” I nod. “Now ask the driver to pull over. I'm getting out. I don't care if I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, I'm getting away from all of you right now.”

“But the deal!” he starts before I press just a tiny bit more, the skin not quite breaking but stretched to the limit.

“I'll honour the deal. I just want out of this limo.”

The car stops and I exit, walking into the layby and starting to get my bearings. As the limo speeds off with an obnoxious wheel screech, I realise I'm not too far from the hunting club near Sweeney's house. I'd thankfully taken a picture of the address and directions he'd scribbled on the newspaper so I hiked my way through the trees before taking a disdainful look at my phone and tossing the thing straight into the lake after writing down Jack's number on a scrap of paper in my wallet.

I couldn't be sure I wasn't being monitored any more.

I reached Sweeney's cabin just as the sun was hitting its highest point and I hesitated near the door, wondering if it would be open. It was locked though and I looked up to see an open window on the second level. I could climb up there but it'd be a stretch.

After knocking several times to make sure Sweeney wasn't home, I began the ill fated climb up the side of his house where I promptly fell onto the leafy ground after my foot couldn't get grip.

Fuck it, time to pray.

I held the coin in my hand tightly.

“I was in trouble Sweeney. I'm at your house. Please come back soon.”

Maybe I shouldn't have thrown my phone away before sending him a message but I found it uncomfortable to know my private words could be read at any time.

I just sat on his porch, sword across my lap and waited, every minute feeling like an eternity with these gods in play. I could barely stand it.

Sweeney's pick up came trundling down the dirt path about half an hour later and he practically sprang out of the truck, running towards me. He takes one look at my face, which I presumed got bruised when I was punched and the blood splattered on me and he looks murderous.

“Tell me who it was n' I'll fuckin' kill 'em,” he snarls.

“People calling themselves the new gods,” I answer quietly, noting the sword has become a cuff again.

“Fuckin' Grimnir!” he roars into the still air. “Not only does he have to drag ya into this petty shite between old gods but now he clearly wants ya involved in the war too. I hate him, I fuckin' hate him with every fibre of my bein'. Ya don't deserve this.”

“They're offering me a way out.”

Sweeney goes silent immediately. I can't tell if he's worried or disappointed by this news.

“What's the way out? Fight with the new gods?”

“Free you from Wednesday, we take their side and we get left in peace. They don't care if we get bonded.”

“ _Sionnachín,_ they play a dangerous game. I-”

But I suddenly stand up, putting my hands in his pockets as he shouts in surprise. I'm looking for something though.

“Lasslin'! I told ya, we can't fuck right now!” he yelps as I dig around in his front jeans pocket and may have brushed a little too far to the centre of his body by accident.

I don't say anything but find his phone before running to the edge of the lake and pitching it far until it drops out of sight with a soft splash.

“They'll be listening otherwise,” I turn around before he can protest. “Get me inside. I'll explain.”

Thankfully he doesn't question it and lets me in the house before locking the door.

“Sweeney, I _know_ they're dangerous. Mr World told me he's been manipulating my whole life to get me here, right now in this place. He wanted me to hate Wednesday before he introduced himself.”

“So what do we do?” he becomes serious. “Neither a' us wants to be here in this war to come.”

“What I do is I free you and then we get the fuck out of this state, out of this country. You can travel out of the country right? If I'm with you?”

“If a believer wills me into a different country, yeah,” he confirms. “So we run? Together?”

“I'm not dying for either of them.”

“Lasslin', I'm bred for battle. I can't walk away that easily.”

“Please Suibhne. Come with me.”

“For you, for no one else,” he says softly, wrapping his arms around my waist. “You're right. Fuck the lot a' them. They can rip each other apart.”

“Okay. Then we'll do this. I'll free you, we'll run but just tell me one thing first, okay? What am I? You were going to tell me before Jack called. The Technical Boy just said I smelled of new and old.”

He looks like he doesn't want to answer but steadies himself, leaning forward to kiss my forehead.

“I didn't really know fer sure until I gave ya Fragarach but now, seeing this, I'm certain,” he lifts my arm with the silver cuff.

“What yer are, _A mhuirnín,_ ” he takes a deep breath. “Is the child of a god.”


	8. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweeney's revelation is hard to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- NB xx

I thought I'd misheard him and I laughed loudly but my laughter gradually died when I saw he was being dead serious.

“The....I'm not a god,” I protest.

“I disagree and I've had a fair few millennia of being a god to notice when yer not exactly human,” Sweeney frowns. “Yer don't believe me?”

“How can I?! That's ridiculous!”

“Then why is everyone after ya? Why is everyone so hellbent on gettin' ya?”

“Because...because...I'm not a god!” I all but stamp my foot. “I can tell you where I was born, I can tell you-”

“- _Sionnachín,_ you're the _child_ of a god. Of course ya won't have memories spannin' back centuries.”

“So...so...I can't wrap my head around this,” I sink against the door. “There's no way.”

“Yer Ma. What happened to her?”

“She left when I was young. I don't even have a picture of her. Dad got rid of them all.”

Sweeney sighs and pulls out a hip flask before necking the liquid back and grimacing, “Anythin' else ya remember? Could be important. The only thing I know fer sure is yer Ma was one a' mine. Kin folk.”

“I know she broke Dad's heart when she left. He doted on her. Uh.....and she was called Brigit.”

There's an almighty clang as Sweeney drops his hip flask on the floor; it wobbles sounding out a tinny noise before finally coming to rest and I can see whiskey pouring out in dribbles.

“Brigit?” he whispers, his eyes impossibly wide.

“Do you know her?”

I don't know why something hopeful started in me at that point. I had no family left. Dad had died a few years back but if Sweeney knew her then maybe I had a chance of finding her again...even if she was meant to be a god.

“Just tell me she's not the Brigitte in New Orleans,” he's gone pale as he places a French twang on the name. “Please, for the love of Bran, tell me that.”

“No, she wasn't from New Orleans. She'd emigrated over. We moved around a lot ourselves when I was little. Sometimes across continents. Wait, so there's a Brigit in New Orleans?”

“Different kind,” he relaxes, clutching his chest in relief. “The New Orleans Brigitte was brought over to the Caribbean islands. Yours could be any Brigit in Eire, the UK, Europe or here.”

“Why were you so tense?”

He ruffles his mohawk nervously, “I've fucked the New Orleans Brigitte....like _a lot_. I ain't about to fuck her daughter if it were the same. I have standards sometimes, ya know.”

“Oh,” I blink before recovering myself. “Who said I'd let you anyway?”

“Lasslin', you n' I both know yer'd let me,” he comes up close, leaning over me and his voice drops an octave. “Don't play coy. It's only on fear a' Wednesday that I don't take ya upstairs n' fuck ya over my balcony where the world can see we belong to each other....ahh....FUCK! Bollocks! I didn't mean to strengthen the bond! Stop gettin' me randy, _Sionnachín!_ ”

For there was a momentary glow of gold in his eyes like a coin caught in the sunlight and I felt a pull in my stomach like I didn't want to be away from him, like I'd die if I were separated. It faded fast but I found myself in his arms, my hands curled into his shirt and I was panting like I'd run for miles.

“Sorry,” Sweeney winces. “I need to watch meself with that.”

I gave an awkward cough before moving away and then a realisation struck, “Wait, doesn't this mean we're related?! I thought all the Celtic gods were brothers and sisters?”

“You really think my kin are incestuous folk?” he gives a half offended look. “Brothers and sisters in the spiritual sense a' the term not the literal. Yer not my great niece if that's what yer thinkin'.”

“Well I don't know anything about this,” I fling my hands up in the air. “I just have research to go off and maybe Mr World was feeding me bullshit when I looked it up on the internet.”

“Calm down, lass.”

“I'm trying,” I slump onto the couch and he joins me. “This is a lot to take in. So....so my mother's a god then. Doesn't explain why the Technical Boy said I smelled of something new as well.”

“Talk to me about your family,” Sweeney puts a huge hand on my thigh and squeezes it. “Maybe we can figure it out.”

“Like I said...uh...Brigit left when I was about nine. My dad used to own a record shop and I....no that's not right. My dad had this villa overlooking....that's not right either. I....what the fuck?” I stared in horror at the floor. “Why can't I remember? My dad he used to....used to....”

“What did he look like?” Sweeney presses.

“I...I don't remember,” I couldn't even throw up an image of his face in my mind any more.

“What race was he?”

“I don't remember. Why don't I remember anything about him? Hang on, he used to wear a leather jacket and jeans...it was a full suit...it was zebra print...it was mesh...it was flannel shirts...Sweeney, what's happening to me?!”

I look up in desperation and he's regarding me strangely. He studies me for a while as I get more and more panicked that I can't remember anything about the people who raised me. Images are getting jumbled in my head. I feel like I'm overloading.

“What was his name?” Sweeney grabs my shoulders before I fall off the couch. He seems just as shaken as I am. “Your Da, what was he called?”

“Brock. I'm pretty sure it was Brock.”

“Last name?”

“Rollah.”

“Are yer fuckin' kiddin' me?” Sweeney whispers. “Did he have a middle name?”

“Uh....yeah, Nashville. Said his parents idolised the place.”

He goes quiet, a myriad of emotions washing over his face before something clicks. Then he almost seems exasperated.

“Put his name together but only use the initial for his middle name, _Sionnachín_ ,” he sighs.

“Why?”

“Just...indulge me.”

“Brock N. Rollah. Wait...” the cogs turn in my head. “That's almost like-”

“-Rock N' Roll,” Sweeney nods. “And yer just described several styles of rock n' roll in his clothing. He's not alive, is he?”

“No.”

“And why is that?”

“Because...because....Rock N' Roll is dead. You can't be serious?! This is fucking crazy!”

“Your Da was the god of Rock N' Roll,” Sweeney pulls me into his arms so I'm lying on him across the couch. “Something old n' something new. Did yer know Brigit is the goddess of poets? Songs are just poems to music. I can imagine her being with someone like yer Da for a long time.”

“Then why leave?”

“I don't know, lasslin',” he kisses the top of my head. “I don't have all the answers. Wish I did. What I _do_ know is that I gotta getcha far away from Wednesday's lot _and_ the New gods. If they knew...”

“What? What would they do?”

“You could be a great weapon to either side. The hybrid child. No wonder yer worship felt so strong.”

“Am I like you? Can I...do things? You know, like you can with coins and spears?”

“Not got a fuckin' clue,” he shrugs. “Yer the first I've ever come across. As far as I know, the only one in the world.”

Silence falls and I begin searching my memory for anything to corroborate what Sweeney was talking about. I found that my recollection of my Dad was still just as hazy and that I did at least recall guitars around the house, ones that ranged from the Chuck Berry style all the way to the kind Slash would play. He was always singing but the tone was different each time I tried to zone in on a memory.

Did my dad change as rock changed? How old was I exactly then to know all the different styles?

“I can hear the existential crisis from here,” Sweeney cuts in, looking down at me.

“I don't know what's real any more,” I murmur quietly. “I don't know what I am and I don't know what to believe.”

“Believe in me,” Sweeney tips my chin up. “That's all ya need right now. Believe that I will kill anyone who wishes ya harm. We leave in two days.”

“You're really coming with me?”

“Ask another fuckin' stupid question again n' see what happens,” he warns playfully before giving that lopsided smirk. “I'm tired of this place anyway.”

He flounders a little when I reach up to kiss him before his hands cup my cheeks, keeping me close. It's not the heated kisses we've shared before, it's something a lot sweeter, a lot more emotional.

“We can't,” he breaks away reluctantly. “Not until we're in hiding.”

“If we leave in two days then why not?”

“We're still in danger here. I'm a warrior but I ain't worth ten bags of shite against several gods at once. If they realise ya worshipped me, they might think yer of no use to them n' try to kill ya. I really wish ya hadn't summoned me, _Sionnachín._ ”

“Don't tell me off for wanting to know if you were safe,” I scowl.

“I'm not,” he smiles warmly. “It was nice to know someone cared. Been a long time since somebody cared about ol' Mad Sweeney.”

The sadness in his voice pulled at my heart and I wanted so desperately to show him just _how much_ I cared. I knew then and there I'd have to free him from Wednesday imminently before we fled.

In the mean time, I unbuttoned his shirt and he tried to fight with me over it until I got it open.

“What did I just say?!” he covers himself as much as possible. “I've met some horny girls in my time but you take the fuckin' cake, lasslin'.”

“Shut up. This isn't about sex,” I pry his hands away before whipping my own t-shirt off and my bra to go with it.

“I find that very hard to believe,” he licks his lips like they've gone dry. “How can I not think of sex when there's a ripe pair of boobies just in front of me?”

“Boobies? Are you twelve?” I laugh before lying over his bare chest. “I'm just doing a different kind of intimacy.”

The skin to skin contact was helping to calm my storming mind and I ended up syncing my breathing with his. He was so warm, like he'd been bathing in the sun for hours.

Eventually his arms encased me and he held me to him, leaning his head back against the arm of the couch and closing his eyes. I'm sure we could've easily fallen asleep like this.

“I can't wait for the day I can say all the things I want to say,” he mutters softly. “When I don't have to worry about bindin' too deeply if I give a declaration. The things I want to say to you, _a_ _chuisle mo chroí,_ heartfelt things, sexual things, the very essence of my soul things. I've not felt like this....I'm gettin' too fuckin' carried away again. This is drivin' me fuckin' mad.”

“You'll be able to soon,” I say into his chest. “We'll _both_ be able to.”

I chance a glance upwards and he has the biggest smile on his face, eyes still closed. I don't think he realises how beautiful he was like this, my protective leprechaun.

“Suibhne?”

“Aye?”

“I'm going to need you to bake some more bread before tonight. I have a plan.”


	9. Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You set your plan in motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Excessive swearing
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- NB xx

I have to say it was hard to focus on the plan whilst I was watching Sweeney bake bread from scratch.

Something about the labour of it, watching his huge hands be so deft and agile really fascinated me. He played up to it of course and then decided to leave flour handprints on my shirt, right over my tits which meant I had to steal another shirt of his.

“I think you just like me in your clothes at this point,” I roll the sleeves up.

“Maybe I do,” he laughs. “Primal thing, ya know? Can't explain it or I'll-”

“-Strengthen the bond, yeah,” I sigh. “I'll be glad when this is all over.”

“Me too, lasslin',” he checks whether the dough has risen enough before firing the oven up. “You really think this is going to work? Wednesday's not dumb.”

“I just have to approach it like I hate him, which I do, but that I want to save you, which I do. The half truth.”

“Are ya sure you were never a con man in a previous life?” he arches an eyebrow at me. “Or did ya take Anansi's deal without tellin' me?”

“I'm smart all on my own,” I tap him on the arm. “Now get baking.”

**

An hour later we're driving to Jack's Crocodile Bar with two fresh loaves still warm in the little wicker basket on my lap. He wouldn't tell me why he had such an adorable basket though. I got the sneaking suspicion he was more of a softie then he let on.

“Drop me here,” I instruct him when we're about a couple of minutes away. “If any of the others spot you they'll know. I need to look like I came alone. You can come in sometime afterwards, just don't make it obvious what I'm going to do.”

“Trust me, I'm not about to fuck up your plan to get me off the hook,” he says seriously. “Just be safe, alright? Ya get into trouble you pray for me, fuck 'em if it binds us closer at that point.”

“I will. See you soon.”

Sweeney draws me in for a kiss, only daring to give me the barest peck before I get out of the truck and start walking. I'm almost storming to the bar, desperate to get this over with and also shitting myself about what would happen when Wednesday found out I'd tricked him.

What if Czernobog was there? Would he kill me for going against the Old Gods?

I didn't have time to doubt myself though.

I snuck in through the back, putting the bread in the kitchen area and then moving to the main bar unit where Jack looked harried as Wednesday's crowd were being quite raucous. I braced myself for the inevitable questions of where I'd been and why I hadn't shown up on time but when she spotted me, she audibly gasped and threw her arms around me.

“Oh honey! Oh my god, what happened?!” she looks me over. “Who hit you?! Was it Sweeney? If it was Sweeney I'm gonna fucking shoot him.”

“No it was friends of theirs,” I nod over to the rowdy table. “I'm okay, really.”

“Take the day off, right now,” Jack says seriously. “I shouldn't have asked you to work here. You've been shot at, jumped and molested and that's on me. I ain't doing enough to protect you.”

“It's not your fault,” I say firmly. “You've been like a momma to me since I've been here and put a roof over my head and money in my pocket. Don't apologise for that. I _want_ to work. They're _not_ driving me out.”

“I'm pulling the long shift then. I don't fucking trust those slimy bastards enough to leave you on your own.”

“I'll be fine. Sweeney said he'll come be my bodyguard.”

I can see she's thinking about it. She's exhausted, I can tell but she's torn between her tiredness and making sure I was okay, which was really quite touching.

“I'll stay for another couple of hours and see how it is,” she finally says. “But you don't buss their table. I do it.”

“Deal.”

But it didn't quite work like that.

Jack got waylaid with a bunch of frat boys who were having a beer drinking competition and eventually I had to answer Mr Wednesday's waving hand. I was at least thankful that Czernobog wasn't here today. It was just Bilquis and Mr Nancy with him.

“You look like you've been through the wars, my dear,” Wednesday assesses my face. “Trouble?”

And the idea came to me, the inspired set of words to manipulate him to my advantage. Maybe he was rubbing off on me in a way.

“A lot of trouble,” I say quietly before looking around like I was checking the coast was clear before leaning with my hands on the table. “The new gods found me.”

“I was wondering if they'd find the balls to do so. I take it they're responsible for the bruises?”

“Someone called the Tech Boy? Technical Boy? And Media?”

“So you were right, Wednesday,” Bilquis purses her lips. “They're trying to recruit her.”

“Can you help me? I thought I was going to die,” I look at them all. “Mr World...he...he scared me.”

Which was the truth. Mr World was more terrifying that Mr Wednesday, knowing that he'd engineered my whole life without either of my parents knowing. I think the fear was evident on my face because they all bought it.

“Of course we can. Come sit next to your Uncle Grimnir,” he pats the seat next to him.

“Jack'll kill me if I'm sat down on the job.”

“Then yes we can help you. Let me make a few phone calls to the other gods. I think the war starts here,” Wednesday smiles charmingly. “Will you bring Sweeney on side?”

“They threatened him and I don't want him to be killed because of me.”

“Young love,” he laughs. “Well...very ancient love and young love. Warms the heart. He gave you more trinkets recently, didn't he?”

He taps the cuff on my arm. For a moment, I think he's seeing through the ruse but he just leans back.

“Yeah he likes me.”

“Or he wants your faith. I've no doubt you still have his lucky coin and I think that bracelet belonged to him once as well. Tell me, my dear, have you fucked him yet?”

“What? No?!” I get embarrassed.

“Mr Nancy, is she lying?”

“Oh she ain't lying,” Mr Nancy gives me an appraising glance. “I think she'd be a damn sight happier if she was fucking him. By all accounts he's very blessed.”

“Anyway,” I say loudly, trying to get back on topic. “What do I need to do?”

“Join us in the Hall of Gods. There we will find the truth of what you are. You can't hide your true essence there. It'll make itself known.”

“So if I'm anything to do with a god you'll see it in the hall?”

“Your aura will tell us,” Bilquis chimes in. “Who your parents were, if you have abilities. You will know the truth of yourself there.”

Part of me wanted to go. Part of me wanted to be in the Hall of Gods to confirm that I was the child of an old god and a new god but that would mean Wednesday would know and I didn't want him to know.

“We'll make the arrangements tomorrow. Mama-Ji has been dying to meet you,” Wednesday smirks.

“Thank you. I'll bring you some food out, free of charge,” I try to seem grateful. “I can't go back to my trailer. They dragged me out of there. I'll stay with Sweeney but I'm here almost every day so you can still contact me. I threw my phone in the lake because they'd been listening in.”

“Worse than I thought then,” Wednesday drops the charming act. “Sounds like they've known of your existence for a while then. Yes, stay with Sweeney. He's my man after all. Don't worry my dear, you're safe with us. We're sort of a family after all if you're part of a pantheon.”

His hand moves to my hip and I want to punch him in his craggy face but I resist. He gets up, sliding uncomfortably close to me as he does so before walking out to use the payphone outside the bar.

I make a calculated risk and sit down in his empty seat to address Bilquis and Mr Nancy.

“When I bring the food out, don't eat the bread,” I tell them and they look mildly curious. “I'm saying this because you've both been honest with me. What I said about the new gods was true but I have no intention of fighting Wednesday's war and I'm not letting Sweeney do it either. Don't eat the bread. Sweeney made it and you'll be in his debt if you have even a crumb of it.”

“Little girl, why the fuck are you telling us this?” Mr Nancy leans on his hand. “We're with Wednesday, on his side. I could tell him right now what your plan is.”

“You could. I just don't think it's fair you should get tricked too. Bilquis, you saved me from Czernobog and helped me believe. Mr Nancy, you gave me a fair offer that I might have taken in other circumstances. Do with that information what you will but I just wanted you to know.”

“Sweet one,” Bilquis takes my hand across the table and I have to struggle with that odd sense of lust again. “I know you're intentions are true. We are starting to be less than enamoured with Wednesday's thirst for blood. I appreciate your honesty and I will not tell him what you're planning.”

She lets go, smiling serenely at me. Mr Nancy is still looking me over before he finally laughs, leaning back.

“I've been waiting for the day when somebody teaches that crusty old white man a lesson,” he winks. “You might not want it but you have my full and utter fucking blessing to bring him down. Shit, the only reason I signed up was because he made it seem like a done deal but I should've known better. He played on my anger, my sense of justice to get me on side but I only appear to be doing his dirty work right now.”

“Anansi, enough,” Bilquis gives him a look.

“It is not enough,” and Mr Nancy's accent has become less American, more West African in his annoyance. “We are no more than Wednesday's lackies and I am nobody's fucking minion. We are older and more powerful than he is.”

“Then why stay here?” I ask.

“Our followers are dwindling,” Bilquis sighs. “If they stop believing, we cease to exist. The new gods offer us a way to co-exist, so that we can benefit from the modern world but even then it feels like trading one bad situation for another.”

“You'll have to co-exist though. If it's not on the internet, nobody remembers it. Even if you don't like the new gods, and I certainly don't, use them to your advantage and make the situation your own.”

“You're right but it's hard. It's hard to let go of the old ways when the new gods are barely a century old and we have endured for millennia.”

“How the fuck am _I_ supposed to adapt?” Mr Nancy scoffs. “You, my Queen, have Tinder and the world of webcam porn but me? People freak the fuck out at spiders these days.”

“Your stories could be something. If they made those into films,” I venture. “Or you keep saying about starting a revolution, so name it after yourself. Be a symbol.”

He thinks about it for a while and then smiles brightly at me, “That's not half bad. I knew I liked you. I appreciate the heads up, by the way. I would've been really fucking mad to be the slave of a faerie. Tell you what, if you and big Red wanna make a run for it, I'll help you. I'll make sure the Allfather doesn't have a motherfuckin' clue where you are. Misdirection is one of my specialities.”

“Please. I would really like that,” I nod enthusiastically.

“You've fallen for him, haven't you?” Bilquis says curiously. “The leprechaun? I've known that look many a time.”

“Maybe.”

And when Sweeney walks into the bar with a swagger to his step, Bilquis touches my hand again and I see their auras once more. Sweeney's is positively sparkling now, much more of a glow to his skin.

“You've worshipped him. You should solidify the bond before Wednesday can use you,” she urges me.

“And what will you two do?”

“You know, Queen? I think we need a vacation from this bullshit. Illinois doesn't quite agree with me any more,” Mr Nancy takes his hat from off the table and dusts it off. “How about Vegas? You can hit the chapels to find your love worshippers and I can trick some morons out of their cash.”

“That's agreeable,” Bilquis nods. “But first we see the night out. No suspicions. Off you go, dear one. Don't be seen talking to us. Thank you for the warning.”

“And if you ever need more gods to worship sometime, you know how to reach us. I think you and I could still set the world on fire,” Mr Nancy tips his hat to me. “Go on now, get your pretty ass behind the bar.”

I slip out, going to the kitchen and thankfully Mr Wednesday doesn't come back in yet. I prepare the gumbo, slicing Sweeney's bread and I still set pieces on all three plates so as not to raise suspicion.

When I come out and put them down, I say to Wednesday I'll meet him later to discuss things and he's already tucking into the food with gusto as Bilquis and Mr Nancy only stick to the gumbo.

Finally I move back to the bar and Jack's biting her lip like she's going to wrench it off.

“Shit I left you alone with them. I'm so sorry,” she shakes her head.

“It's fine, they were alright. Sweeney's here see,” I point him out and he raises his SoCo at me. “Nothing'll happen.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jack, go home and take a nap.”

“Alright but I'm coming back to close up,” she points warningly at me. “And any trouble my number is behind the bar.”

“Got it.”

She pats me on the cheek before leaving for her house behind the building and now Sweeney comes to sit closer to me.

“Y'alright, _Sionnachín_?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Feel anything yet?” I glance at Wednesday who's mopping up the sauce with the bread.

“Oh yeah,” Sweeney grins at me. “That debt is well and truly shattered. You did it. _Mo Ghrá thú._ Oh I'd kiss you if I could.”

“Later. For now, I need to work.”

The night went quicker than I expected. Since Wednesday thought I was on his team, he was a lot nicer and didn't try to talk to me as much. It's only when Jack came back looking more refreshed and relieved me of duty that he caught my arm as I was going out.

“Tomorrow morning. Meet me here and I'll take you to the Hall of Gods. Once we find out what you are, we can help take down the new gods. Sweeney, my good man? Keep her safe tonight.”

“I'll keep her safe every night,” Sweeney puts his hand on my back to guide me out and I wave my goodbyes to Mr Nancy and Bilquis who return them.

I'm glad to see their bread is either untouched or the crusts are on Wednesday's plate.

“Let's get some things from your trailer. May as well move in for the night,” Sweeney jokes as we get into his truck.

It's not much that I have to collect anyway. I've only got my travelling things and a couple of knick knacks I picked up to make the trailer more homely.

Once we're at Sweeney's, I sling my possessions in the corner before turning to him with glee.

“We did it! You're free!”

“You wonderful _wonderful_ woman!” he picks me up and spins with me on the spot before clutching me tightly to him.

I get lost in the feeling of his arms, the scent from his shirt and the unnatural warmth that radiates from him. When I look up, he's smiling so brightly at me, overjoyed.

“How can I ever thank you?” he asks.

“I'm waiting for my kiss.”

“Lasslin', I can't. Wednesday-”

“-No, no more being frightened of Wednesday. We'll be far away from here soon.”

“Let's not tempt fate, eh?”

But he doesn't protest when I reach up and kiss him and he doesn't protest when I deepen the kiss. When I start pulling him towards the stairs, I can see the battle raging in his head, weighing up the pros and cons but his desire is winning and when I open the door to his room, he takes one look at the bed and one look at me.

“We do this, we can't ever go back. You'll be bound to me forever n' I have no idea how long you'll live.”

“I want this.”

“Why? Why me?” he asks quietly, stroking my hair back. “I'm nothing. I'm a disgrace.”

“Because I love you.”

I'd never said it before, I'd never thought about it much before but I knew how I felt in that moment. Bilquis was right but then again, she would be.

“Yer an idiot to love me n' I don't deserve it but I'll take it anyhow,” his eyes brim with happy tears and his eyes swirl like molten gold. “I've loved you for a long time. Said it more than I should've.”

“So _that's_ what you were saying when I couldn't understand you.”

“Grimnir called me a coward and that's what I was being a coward about, telling ya how I felt but I'm doing it now. I love you, my little fox.”

And the next kiss he gave me I felt deep in my soul.


	10. Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sweeney want to run but Wednesday has other plans for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry for the wait. I've been doing all my Kinktober stories before October (one day is our very own Sweeney!)
> 
> Warnings: Angst, excessive swearing, violence, death
> 
> This chapter will contain spoilers for the American Gods book. 
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> x

_Rock N' Roll was born from the tangle of the Blues, Jazz and Gospel into a divided America. He would've nearly faded just as quickly as he had come into being were it not for the breaking down of ethnic barriers and the first rock musicians who exploded into the conservative United States._

_By the 1950s, Rock N' Roll grew stronger, the praise more direct as rebellious kids started listening to Chuck Berry, Bill Haley and Elvis Presley with a fervour unlike anything that had swept the country before. Graceland become Rock N' Roll's very first temple, visitors flocking and the rhinestone jumpsuit was the vestments of his priests._

_The 60s brought Anglomania to the fore. The Beatles were now his pastors and The Rolling Stones. Rock N' Roll's accent changed for a brief decade and he enjoyed himself with the free spirited natures of the hippy and biker cultures that sprung up along with him._

_The 70s only made Rock N' Roll stronger. Musicians were starting to tour the globe. Jimmy Hendrix, James Morrison and Janis Joplin were martyrs in his religion, elevated to legendary status as a testament to psychedelic rock._

_Now for the first time Rock N' Roll was beginning to embody drastically different styles and so he started to split. He was both a heavy metal icon and a punk anarchist, a prog rock star and a stadium rock symbol. His appearance changed from day to day, his personality switched with each new disciple._

_The 80s hit a peak with the launch of MTV. Media's influence had given Rock N' Roll an extra avenue of worship and the era of glam and hair metal was born. The hair got larger, the pants got tighter and who cared if he sported make up?_

_Rock N' Roll was drowning in groupies, drugs and booze._

_The 90s was more sobering as grunge cut through the excess, bringing Rock N' Roll to grittier tones. The hair got longer, the melodies darker and Nirvana brought more of the disaffected youth to the flock. However, when some youths began copying Kurt Cobain's suicide, the worship of Rock N' Roll was tainted._

_He never wanted his followers to kill themselves for his love and cause. He wasn't an old god._

_Rock N' Roll hid, entangling with the fledgling god Rap for a short time where Nu-Metal and Pop Punk sprang to life but it never felt enough. Rock N' Roll was starting to yearn for something tangible._

_He met Brigit in Seattle at an open mic night and was entranced. She, in turn, found Rock N' Roll's rebellious melody to be refreshing and the affair between them was passionate and fiery. Brigit fell pregnant and their daughter was born late one night underneath the stars on the penthouse roof of their apartment._

_They loved their child, raising her like a traditional American nuclear family, without any hint of their true identities and Rock N' Roll felt complete at last. This was the legacy he wanted to leave behind._

_Brigit disappeared when their daughter was six years old and left Rock N' Roll heartbroken. He shed his godliness, asking Media to promote another musical god instead and for the right to be able to fade and die. He thought he would have long enough to raise his daughter until she became an adult but the global public is fickle and in today's world, fame and worship comes and goes as quickly as the news changes._

_Rock N' Roll disappeared just as the 2010s started and no one has seen him since, his daughter the last remaining part of him in this world._

**

  
“I need you, Sweeney,” I breathe, pulling him close to me and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Fuck,” he growls, his hands almost crushing my waist. “Oh lasslin', I am gonna make sure you'll never scream anyone else's name again.”

In one shift motion, I'm shoved back, tripping and falling onto the bed and he's just prowling towards me like some feral creature. He's moving up my body, nuzzling my neck until I bare my throat for him and he's kissing me at the sensitive points that make me shiver and whimper.

“I want more noises like that,” Sweeney rasps. “Give me more. Let me hear ya.”

He's between my legs, slowly grinding and I'm just desperate to not have any clothes separating us. It's almost maddening.

Just as he's dragging my shirt up, there's a rapid succession of knocking at the door. Sweeney freezes in place. Outside there's a flash of lightning in the distance and a deep rumble in the clouds.

“Who the _fuck_ is that?” he half snarls, half freezes. “Nobody but you knows I fuckin' live here.”

“What should we do?” I whisper.

“Stay here. Keep outta sight. I'll go check,” he lifts up and I can see him adjusting his jeans to get comfortable before vanishing from the bedroom and going down the stairs.

I get up from the bed, sneaking to the door and hovering there, trying to strain my ears to hear what's going on. Whoever it is isn't speaking very loudly and neither is Sweeney but the tone sounds angry, rushed.

“-THAT FUCKIN' THUNDEROUS OLD _CUNT_!” his voice bounces up the stairs before he stomps halfway up there. “Get down here, girl. It's alright.”

I come out, apprehensive but I look past Sweeney who's absolutely furious to Mr Nancy and Bilquis who are standing in the doorway. The rain starts the second I hit the landing, absolutely lashing down and pounding on the roof.

“Sorry to interrupt your....fuckin' time,” Mr Nancy casts an appraising eye over me. “But we got a problem.”

“I thought you were supposed to be getting far away?” I join Sweeney on the stairs.

“Wednesday moved quicker than we thought,” Bilquis looks worried. “He's called all the gods into the backstage of reality, to the Hall of Gods right now rather than tomorrow. If we leave now, we're fair game in his war.”

“That's what the light show is all about,” Mr Nancy looks disdainfully out of the door at the stormy weather. “Sweeney is gonna have to answer the call or your little ruse is gonna be discovered. We ain't got a motherfuckin' choice here.”

“You can't run just yet,” Bilquis makes a movement to comfort me but Sweeney just gives a warning grunt and she stops in her tracks. “But Anansi and I will help you after.”

“Yer going to stay here, lass,” Sweeney strokes my hair back. “They only found out I lived here by following us so you should be safe.”

“No way!” I frown. “I'm not letting you go there by yourself!”

“I love yer spirit, lasslin' but I'm a god. I'll be fine.”

“No you won't. If you turn up there without me he'll just ask you to fetch me anyway. I'll show my face and then we'll get out of America.”

“If ya think ya going anywhere near Grimnir...if I have to lock ya in a cupboard I will,” Sweeney's eyes flash.

“Calm down, big Red,” Mr Nancy comes closer. “She's right. You been so attached at the goddamn hip lately it's gonna look _real_ suspicious if you come alone.”

“You have our allegiance,” Bilquis does a little bow and Mr Nancy looks surprised at her actions.

“You......what?!” Sweeney blinks.

“Oh fuck this,” Mr Nancy sighs before bowing too. “We're on your side, Lucky Charms. We ain't gonna let your little disciple there get hurt.”

“Maybe it's a good job we didn't end up having sex right now,” I whisper to Sweeney. “He won't know I'm fully yours.”

“Y'aint making this better, _Sionnachín_ ,” he rolls his eyes. “Let's answer Wednesday's fuckin' call then. Keep my sword close. My spear is at the front a' the hoard so I can grab it quickly.”

“What are we fuckin' waitin' for then?” Mr Nancy quirks up his mouth before shutting the door. “Oh I hate this part.”

He takes Bilquis' hand, extending his to me so in the little circle we form, I don't touch her other hand and get a dose of artificial lust. I'm then subject to the sensation of being squeezed from all sides and then, just when I think I can't take in a breath and my lungs are screaming, I'm thrown to the right and the world dissolves around me.

I would've fallen over if Sweeney hadn't caught me.

The backstage of reality was stranger then I ever could've imagined. I couldn't see what I was walking on, everything around me was black but somehow also lit and I got occasional flashes of the real world from everywhere across the globe, like a broken slideshow projection.

The gods led me to a set of double doors that were a hodge podge of cultural symbols. None of my companions seemed eager to open them but I was beyond being Wednesday's toy so I barged past and opened them myself, striding in.

I stopped a few feet in, absolutely stunned at what I saw.

The gods were milling in an orchard that sparkled gold, the fruits like encrusted jewels and galaxies swirled overhead. The gods themselves glowed with the power I'd seen before but it was even more pronounced and I finally saw Wednesday in his ethereal form, his blind eye was replaced by pure white light and his appearance much more Viking looking.

“Well well well,” Wednesday approaches me, his smile setting my teeth on edge. “So it's true.”

“What's true?” I spit back.

“You really are your parent's daughter,” he's about two feet away now.

Realisation sets in and I felt more rage than I've ever experienced in my life.

“You knew the whole time,” I say it as fact. “You knew what I was, who I was.”

“Not for certain,” Wednesday wags a finger. “I didn't know it was definitely you until I saw you just now. Look at you....the perfect blend of old and new. Look everyone at what the new gods would have us turn to.”

I don't look at them though, I turn to look at Sweeney who looks completely different in his god form. His hair is long, plaited and dreaded in one great ponytail that extends all the way down his back. The woad markings on his bare chest shimmered like sapphires and the spear he carried had an even brighter flame than I remembered.

“Wow,” I can't help but say and he smiles shyly.

“Wow yourself. Look down,” he nods.

And when I look at myself, I make a small squeak of surprise. I'm glowing like everyone else, although mine is weaker. I just didn't expect to be wearing something akin to a punk outfit with green and yellow tartan pants, a ripped mesh t-shirt and a braided Celtic torc around my neck and wrists.

I couldn't deny that what Sweeney had said was true. I was the child of two gods.

“A hybrid?” Czernobog's voice makes me spin around quickly. “Is this what's going to help us?”

“Help us?” Wednesday laughs. “Oh no. She's not going to help.”

“So what am I doing here?” I fold my arms. “And how did you already know about me?”

“The last time I saw you, you were a child,” Wednesday is almost chest to chest with me. “The day that I reminded Brigit where her loyalties lay.”

“What?” my stomach drops.

“What did you say to her?!” Sweeney is right behind me. “What did you do to my kin, Wednesday?!”

“Old gods shouldn't mix with new gods. It's an _abomination_ ,” Wednesday growls. “The Jesuses I could just about handle but this...so no, my darling. You won't be helping us but I'm making sure you don't help with anyone else either.”

Sweeney's spear comes in front of me, blocking Wednesday, “You touch her, I'll fuckin' kill ya.”

“Oh I'm not after killing her or sacrificing her, my fiery friend. I want her worship farmed for us. She'll stay here in the backstage away from Mr World.”

“Like a battery hen?!” I interject. “You just want to cage me and pump me for prayer?”

“She's strong,” a blue skinned woman I've never seen before approaches. “She'll give us the worship we need.”

“Fuck off, Mama-Ji,” Sweeney snarls. “She's not yours.”

“She belongs to all of us. She is half of us,” Mama-Ji's aura flares in her anger.

“I BELONG TO SUIBHNE!” I shout back. “I BELONG TO LUGH!”

The glow of myself and Sweeney bursts into life, raging in its golden luminescence, mine shot with ripples of red. All of the other gods step back in shock.

“You fucking cunt led _idiot_ ,” Wednesday seethes. “Declaring yourself for this fuckin' catastrophe is the single most stupid thing I've ever fuckin' heard. He's _my_ man. Even if you let him fuck your dumb young pussy in front of all of us as some declaration of intention, he belongs to _me_ and therefore so do _you_.”

“Does he?” I raise an eyebrow. “Did you enjoy your bread, Wednesday? The one I brought to you at Jack's?”

Wednesday looks at me strangely before Mama-Ji hits him on the arm.

“She means she tricked you, Odin!” she points at us. “It was fae food!”

I had five seconds to defend myself as Wednesday's own spear slipped through a gap near Sweeney and the cuff become Fragarach again, blocking the tip and deflecting, just before it went into my shoulder.

“You tricked me?!” Wednesday roars. “You dare to trick _me_?!”

“Oh we fuckin' dared,” Sweeney spins his spear and hits Wednesday back, getting in front of you and if you were Sweeney's enemy, you'd be terrified of his appearance right now. “And you'll tell the lasslin' what happened to her mother.”

“You wanna know what happened to Brigit?” Wednesday sneers, unable to stop himself, the fae magic at work. “I had her shipped back, deported. I had her sent so far away from your father that she'd never be able to hitch a ride back. I poured all my energy into making the Brigit in New Orleans the only Brigit anyone thought of. She should never have opened her legs. Fuckin' Rock N' Roll....I knew she had low standards but _fuck_.”

“Where is she now?!” I threaten him with the sword.

“Back where she came from.”

“Ireland,” Sweeney fills in. “You sent her back to Ireland.”

“I don't kill my own kind,” Wednesday fixes me with a glare. “Even abhorrences like you. I knew you'd be powerful when you grew up but I didn't know just how much. One declaration to Sweeney and he's the strongest I've seen him in fuckin' millennia. He's almost back to when he killed me the first time in his home country.”

“And I'll do it again,” Sweeney says savagely. “We're leaving.”

“You're not leaving,” Czernobog joins the line and soon all the gods on Wednesday's side are congregating behind him. “You'll give us the worship we need to defeat the new gods.”

“No!” I snap. “I'm sick of having my life manipulated. Between Wednesday and Mr World, nothing has ever been my own. You _stole_ my family from me.”

“ _We're_ your family,” Mama-Ji pushes.

“Wednesday, let us deal with this,” Mr Nancy's accent has changed to the West African lilt and I look to see him with long dreadlocks and the eyes of a spider on his face. “Bilquis and I have more of a bond with her. We can win her over.”

“Well you're the last gods I would've expected her to lean on but go ahead,” Wednesday looks me up and down with spite in his eyes. “She needs to know her place. She's not the leader in either world, old or new.”

“Never said I was,” I hiss before following Mr Nancy and Bilquis with Sweeney bringing up the rear, still guarding me.

“Keep quiet,” Bilquis whispers to me. “We'll take you out of the hall in a moment but we need to look like we're discussing things.”

“New and old,” Mr Nancy's eyes travel across my face. “Quite a look, my dear. Wednesday has been misleading us this whole time. I want to tear his fuckin' _head_ off.”

“Peace, Anansi,” Bilquis shushes him. “I too am aggrieved he lied about her but we cannot lose our focus now. He still has all the other's devotion.”

“Not mine,” Mr Nancy is shaking with anger. “I'd rather invest it in her. If this is the way godkind lives on, let it live on through merging. I believe in this for the future and I believe in her.”

“As do I. Please, Anansi, keep your voice down,” Bilquis looks a little desperate.

“Would you two shut the fuck up?!” Sweeney interjects. “Look at what you're doing!”

They all turn to me and I notice I'm shining brighter. Bilquis and Mr Nancy had just declared themselves for me and I didn't know how to explain the feeling other than I felt at my absolute best, like I could move quicker, faster, like I could think better, like I was stronger.

“DECEIT!” Czernobog roars. “The spider and the queen are not on our side!”

Despite the chaos that followed the immediate seconds after, I at least thought it made for a pretty display as a full scale battle broke out. Flames, streaks of light and bursts of colour flashed past as tridents, spears and swords locked.

We were vastly outnumbered so I did what I could and prayed to Mr World, Media and The Technical Boy. I needed to even the odds. If Wednesday wanted his war, I'd force it right now.

“Shit! No wonder you smelled so interesting! Nice outfit, babe!” I hear the Technical Boy from behind me and turn to see him, Media wearing the face of Lucy Lawless as Xena and Mr World.

“I'm so glad you called,” Mr World approaches. “We've never been able to enter without an invite.”

“Help them!” I gesture to Mr Nancy, Bilquis and Sweeney who were getting overwhelmed.

“Oh baby, sit tight. Daddy's got a few tricks up his sleeve,” the Technical Boy winks and produces a gun from nowhere. “Latest in fucking laser technology.”

And off he ran like he was playing Call of Duty.

Media was more physical, sprinting head long into the fight with the sword and chakra bared. Only Mr World stayed where he was.

“Do something then!” I gesture.

“I'm not a fighter,” Mr World shakes his head. “I'm a behind the scenes kind of guy. You did well, you know. I expected you to try to run or let Wednesday make you a proper deal.”

I ignore him. If he wasn't getting involved, I didn't have the time to chat.

Instead I scanned the small battlefield and saw Sweeney going spear to spear with Wednesday. Watching him fight was beautiful. He twirled the weapon in his hands to block, to parry, to thrust and around his body when he dodged. Wednesday's technique was more aggressive, brutal.

After Czernobog had thrown Mr Nancy across the hall, he locked onto Sweeney's back nearby and starting swinging that hammer, choosing the closer target.

“SWEENEY, BEHIND YOU!” I yell.

Sweeney drops onto his knees, leaning backwards like a professional limbo dancer as the hammer passes over him before whirling around and burying the flaming spear in Czernobog's chest. He gives a sharp twist, opening the wound up further before yanking it back out and dodging one of Wednesday's blows.

“You've killed one of your own!” Wednesday roars.

“I killed a fuckin' psychopath. This is war, Grimnir. He was on the wrong side,” Sweeney snarls back, eyes bright with blood lust.

Czernobog collapses to the ground and I visibly see his fiery aura dim and fade to nothing until his body is swallowed by the inky blackness of the floor.

“If he had enough followers to believe in him, he wouldn't have expired,” Mr World's hand slithers over my shoulder and I shuck it off in revulsion. “We did offer a partnership. You see now why we need you? Come with me. You don't need to be so close to the front line.”

“I'm not going,” I say stubbornly. “They need me.”

I've noticed since the Slavic god died, Wednesday looks healthier. Something about that didn't sit right. When Mr Nancy got back into the fray, he managed to strike one of the Shinto gods in the neck with an incredibly wide and curved sword and Wednesday only glowed more.

“What the....” I trail off. “Why is it making him stronger? Why are the dying gods.....Oh no.”

“You're coming with me,” Mr World grabs me around the middle and starts dragging me away.

I'd dropped Fragarach with the shock of his bold move and, as he pulled me from the fight, I desperately tried to get back to it. I wasn't sure if anyone had even noticed what was happening to me.

“GET OFF ME!” I yell, squirming.

“I didn't think you'd figure it out so quickly,” Mr World laughs, almost to the door before he sets me down, grabbing me by the throat and hoisting me up until my feet are dangling.

The strangely violent reaction makes sense when I come to the realisation, “You and Wednesday are working together?!”

“Have been for years,” Mr World grins. “He's getting stronger because this whole war is a dedication to him. He has people dying in his name. Imagine the juice you get from a god that sacrifices their life in pursuit of your cause?”

“And what the hell do _you_ get from it?” my breathing is coming in shallow bursts now.

Mr World brings me closer until I can see the shape of his face changing, down to the complexion and the bone structure. A completely different man stares back at me now.

“Who _are_ you?!” I beat at his hand until he lets me touch the floor again.

“Mr World is just a face I wear. I've worn many,” the new man whispers, his mouth against my cheek. “But the Liesmith is my usual form. When father came to me about his plan, I was all too happy to help. Gain power, kill off the weaker gods and destroy the new ones in the process. You, little godchild, were the lynch pin, the catalyst to spark everything off and we nurtured you the second we found out you existed. All your life has been carefully crafted to get you to this one moment in time so you could rip the alliances apart and so reality could be stained with the blood of godkind.”

“Loki?” I ask with wide eyes.

“There's more than one trickster god and I'm the best,” he smiles before spinning me around and a dagger is pressed into my throat. “Look at them all. They're feeding him, feeding Odin's might.”

Sweeney was starting to struggle. Wednesday was ablaze with light now and was matching blow for blow, driving Sweeney back.

He tripped over the body of Czernobog and went sprawling backwards and I saw the next seconds in slow motion. Wednesday was driving Gungnir down, tip pointed right at Sweeney's heart. Sweeney couldn't get his own spear up in time, too disorientated by the fall.

I was going to lose him. Wednesday was going to kill him.

“NO!” I screeched and Loki's grip lessened in an instant as the blast from me drove him firmly into the double doors.

The shockwave flew forward, knocking Wednesday off his feet and the other gods all went down like skittles in a bowling alley. My voice kept reverberating, echoing like static feedback and they clutched their ears desperately.

I ran to Sweeney and helped him up, searching for Mr Nancy and Bilquis who were extracting themselves from their own opponents.

“ENOUGH!” the power surged in me again and there was hesitation in the god's movements, old and new.

As I swept my gaze across their faces I saw something I didn't expect to see.

Fear.

All the gods were afraid of me.

“You won't fight any more!” I continued. “Put down your weapons!”

I hardly expected them to listen but there was a great clatter as they dropped everything to the ground, raising their hands in surrender. I didn't know _why_ they'd just surrendered to me.

“You fuckin' _mutt_ ,” Wednesday snarls, getting to his feet. “These are _my_ people, _my_ kin and this is _my_ war.”

He lunges at me and I think this is it until Sweeney boots him in the side of the torso so he stumbles his charge and slams the spear right into Wednesday's back, pushing with all of his strength until the point breaks through his chest.

“And that is _my_ woman,” Sweeney rages. “Now just fuckin' _die_ , you vicious old cunt.”

Wednesday hisses all sorts of profanities at me as the undulating light of his missing eye flickers before finally deadening and he becomes a limp weight on the flaming spear. I hear a door open and close as Loki flees the scene, rightly knowing he would be next.

I just go up to Wednesday in his final moments and grab his face, “Some fucking plan, Odin. You thought you were raising a catalyst but you just raised the person who'd end your life. Enjoy nothingness.”

There was terror in his craggy features as he tried to cling on but nobody worships the Allfather any more and so he faded to black, hitting the ground and the war was over just as quickly as it had begun.


	11. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Wednesday's death, who will lead the gods now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last chapter! Thank you for being so patient and all the lovely comments <3
> 
> Warnings: Smut, minor breeding kink, angst
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> \- NB xx

I'll never forget the sheer silence that followed.

As Wednesday's body made that final thud, my own breathing seemed to suddenly get so loud it was reflected back at me. Sweeney was panting too before he wrenched the spear free, looking at me with wide eyes.

“Y'okay?” he asks quietly.

“I think so,” I murmur back before looking at the gods who are still on the floor.

It takes a while to click before I see what they're doing. They're _kneeling_. Even Media and the Technical Boy are kneeling.

“Why are you doing that?” I ask.

“They're pledging allegiance to you,” Sweeney is at my shoulder, fingers brushing my cheek.

“Why me?”

“Because you're the future...dumb ass,” the Technical Boy chips in and Media elbows him in the ribs. “Ow! Hey! I'm just answering the question!”

“What he means is,” Bilquis stands up. “You are old and new, you can help us survive.”

“I ain't ever seen a power like that before...not from the child of gods,” Mr Nancy stands up too. “My own children don't have half the juice you do.”

“You are our leader now,” Mama-Ji approaches me. “I want a leader that's tired of war. Wednesday made so many empty promises.”

“You don't _need_ a leader,” I feel awkward they're deferring to me when they're thousands of years older than I am. “You've never needed a leader before. If you want me to tell you to do something, then work with Media and the Technical Boy. They can get you worship that's not empty. _Actual_ prayer. Then I want you to help them get longevity in return. You've been around for a long while and you know how to cling to existence even when worship fades. Can you all do that?”

There's nodding and Media turns into David Bowie again. It seems to be her favourite face.

“We agree,” she speaks for the new gods. “We'll thrive without Mr World and his scheming.”

“Speaking of which, if anyone sees Loki, you can kill him,” I growl and Mr Nancy starts laughing.

“And here I had you pegged for such a nice young lady,” he smiles. “You and I could've made a beautiful pair, my dear. I love a woman that's not afraid of revolution.”

“She's kinda spoken for, Anansi,” Sweeney's arm comes around my waist.

“Not fully,” Mr Nancy winks and half of the eyes blink shut for a second. It's a slightly unnerving sight when I'm not used to it.

“Everyone get up,” I'm getting weird about the gods still kneeling. “Return back to where you were and this is going to be the start of a renaissance for you.”

“And where will _you_ go?” a god I think is Kana'ti speaks up, retrieving his bow from the floor.

“To find my mother,” I answer firmly. “To bring her back.”

“We wish you all the luck in the world,” Uzume, the dawn goddess smiles.

There's a smattering from the others present before they leave the hall, vanishing into the black beyond and back to reality. Only Bilquis, Mr Nancy, Sweeney and I are left.

Bilquis takes my hands but I no longer find I'm getting overwhelmed with lust. I just feel a glowing affection instead.

“I wasn't good to you in the beginning,” she starts. “But now, now I am happy to have met you. I hope our paths will cross again sometime.”

She kisses my forehead before nodding at Sweeney and stepping back so Mr Nancy can speak to me.

“I can say the opposite is true in our beginning,” he starts with a wry smile. “I offered you something very generous...disappointed you didn't take it but you did me a favour afterwards and this was my favour back to you. I fought for you and now you can jump your giant leprechaun in peace. Should you ever be in need of a story though, pray to me and I'll tell you of the world I came from before.”

“Thank you, both of you,” I say appreciatively. “I hope it works out. If it doesn't...well I don't know if you can pray to me and it'll do something but I'll give you my number when I get a new phone and you can talk to me.”

The gods say their goodbyes before walking to the hall entrance and disappearing too.

Sweeney waits until he can no longer see them before dropping his spear and yanking me into a fierce hug. I can feel his heartbeat slowly starting to relax the longer he holds me.

“Fuckin' hell,” he half growls. “I did _not_ expect a battle today. I was so fuckin' scared for ya.”

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” I calm him down. “I was more scared for _you_. I thought Wednesday was going to kill you.”

“You saved me, _Sionnachín_ ,” his eyes are like the sun, fiery with orange and gold as he looks at me. “You tapped into your power and you saved me.”

“I don't even know how I did that,” I admit. “What even _was_ that power?”

“Yer the child a' two music related gods. Probably to do with sound. I mean, I know women can be loud but fuck me, yer voice carried somewhat,” he jokes.

“Hey!” I shove him in the chest but he barely moves. “Thank you...for killing Wednesday.”

“If there's one thing in my life I've loved doing is snuffing that cunt out in whatever form I come across him in, Balor _or_ Wednesday,” he smirks. “The other thing I've loved and still love...is you.”

“I love you.”

“Even like this?” he gestures to himself, the god form at the brightest I've ever seen it.

“I quite like the ponytail,” I laugh. “But I'm more used to the mohawk. The warpaint is really doing something for me though.”

“Oh?” his fingers are prying through the rips in my shirt. “How about it then? Carry on where we left off?”

“Right here?”

“I wanna see every moment where you become mine,” his tone drops to something more primal.

He bodily picks me up before taking me to the back edge of the hall and the dais before setting me down and taking my face in his huge hands.

“Will ya give yourself to me, _Sionnachín_?”

“Yes,” I answer immediately.

“Will ya give yer faith to me, yer love to me, yer body to me?”

“If you'll give me yours,” I turn my face to kiss one of his hands.

“Yer already have it. I'm already yours, _Mo Ghrá thú._ ”

His lips meet mine and the dam breaks. The tension, the adrenalin, all of it spills over and this time, this time I'm sure we won't get interrupted.

He tears my shirt apart, groaning as my skin is uncovered and then my bra is ripped away, the lucky coin clattering onto the ground. Rather than bending down, he just lifts me into his brawny arms to get his mouth on my chest, his tongue running up the underside of my breast to my nipple. I can feel the ache blooming in my core, I need him desperately.

“Perfect,” he murmurs. “Absolutely fuckin' perfect.”

Sweeney nuzzles himself into the valley of my cleavage before kneeling down and then laying me flat on the dais. Although I could tell he was ravenous for me, he went slow, he went gentle as he explored every inch of bare skin he could find whilst keeping me as close to him as possible.

It felt entirely decadent to have so much attention lavished on me.

“Now let's see something I haven't seen before,” he crookedly grins at me before peeling my pants off until I'm completely bare. “Fuckin' gorgeous.”

He starts from my calf, kissing up towards the soft inside of my thigh and I shiver in anticipation as he parts my legs and dips his tongue into my heat. He makes this low groan that only makes me want him more.

“Sweeter than any cream,” he hums his appreciation before he starts methodically taking me apart.

Fingers curl in me as his tongue moves with practised grace, devouring me until I feel like there's nothing else in the world but the sensations he's driving through me. And then, when the band of tension winds to the tautest part, when my legs are shaking and my body is almost screaming for release, I clutch onto him tightly.

“Suibhne, I love you!”

The flare is bright as I shatter and when he moves on top of me, sheathing himself until he's deep and seated, all I can see is glittering gold in my vision.

“And I love you,” he turns my face to kiss him. “Tell me yer mine.”

“I'm yours” I whisper in between fervent kisses.

“You're mine,” he starts rocking lovingly. “You're mine and I'm yours. Until the day I fade from existence, you are blessed by the sun, you are blessed by luck and you are blessed by the skill of craft.”

He holds me so tightly, arms wrapped around me as he picks up his pace. This is the most intense feeling I've ever had. Every nerve ending is on fire, every thrust is pulling noises from me that I've never made before. Sweeney's love was all-consuming and I felt it deep in my soul.

“Every prayer is yours, every ounce of my love is yours, my king,” I don't even remember saying the words, they just spilled out of my mouth.

“A king who has a queen again,” he rasps. “And save some a' yer love for any children we might have, because _gods_ do I want some with you. A whole fuckin' army a' them. Will you do that? Will you give me children, _Sionnachín?_ ”

“Yes,” my fingers are digging into his back as he hikes my legs around him. “I told you, my body is yours.”

“And I'll treasure it. All of the Sun's hoard n' you are the most precious thing I own,” he kisses me one last time before driving deep and stilling.

In the moment where he pulled away to stroke my hair back, he was the most ethereally beautiful man I'd ever seen. Resplendent with his gleaming skin and fiery hair and his eyes that swirled, not like molten gold any more, but like the surface of the sun.

There was no going back. I had given myself to this god and he had given himself to me in return.

**

We spent a month when we returned from the Hall of Gods helping all the deities set up their new lives.

Media was more than happy to co-operate but the Technical Boy took a bit more cajoling until it was pointed out that he'd gone through one incarnations of godhood already and could expect more changes as technology grew.

The old gods, for the most part, listened to me and started an alliance, benefiting from direct worship for the first time in decades, centuries for some. There were still some stubborn outliers but I was not going to make them toe the line. I wasn't Wednesday.

If they wanted to exist purely as they had done for all this time, that was their choice.

Mr Nancy and Bilquis checked in frequently once I'd gotten a new phone. They seemed to be doing much better away from the Norse god's influence.

I did catch a blue and red spider in Sweeney's bedroom one morning after he and I had gotten up to no good the second we woke up. I might have asked the spider if it was Anansi and it just scuttled out of the window before I heard a burst of laughter from outside and the words,

“She's doing jussssst fine, Bilquis. You sure you weren't pouring any influence into that, because that was quite a motherfuckin' show they put on. I'm impressed.”

I looked out of the window to see them some ways away, disappearing into the treeline. I was mortified he'd been present for my...uh...early morning activity but it was nice to know they were checking up on me.

After that month, I sold some things from Sweeney's hoard to pay for tickets to Ireland. I had to pray to get him on the airplane and thank god I'd booked first class because there was no way he'd have been able to fold himself into an economy seat.

I didn't exactly know where to start my search for Brigit but after a very awkward videochat conversation with the New Orleans Brigit, where Sweeney hid out of sight of the camera for fear of starting a cat fight, she told me Wednesday had mentioned her counterpart was in Kilkee somewhere. She did seem very embarrassed to find out I existed and said she would never have taken Wednesday's deal for more exposure if she knew her counterpart had a child.

The second we got out of the airport, Sweeney just couldn't seem to stop smiling. I can only imagine how awful it was to be brought to a different land and never being able to go home. He was positively chirpy, even when the trains were late, even when he accidentally left his denim jacket in the taxi and even when, after so many hours travelling, we pitched up in the B&B and got the smallest room they had left.

He was exhausted though and I let him sleep whilst I wandered the town, not really knowing if, even if Brigit walked right past me, would I even recognise her? I was so young when Wednesday banished her.

I found myself in a pub, settling down with a drink whilst I watched the patrons who drifted in and out. My eyes kept roving to one man in the corner though.

He wasn't particularly outlandish or anything, I just got the feeling he was familiar. His face was mostly hidden by a flat cap and he wore a white t-shirt with brown pants and suspenders. I could tell at this distance that his beard would've been bright red in daylight but it was dulled to auburn by the pub's dim bulbs.

The man meets my gaze and he looks just as interested. We stare at each other for another moment before I find myself approaching him and I sit across from his table.

“Something not right usual 'bout yeh,” he speaks, voice gruff but commanding. “Kinfolk....but not kinfolk.”

“Are you Sweeney- sorry, Suibhne?” I ask and he goes from shock to mirth.

“Read 'bout me, have ya?” he drinks his pint. “Surprised anyone still recognises me. Believers are rare.”

“I know the American you.”

“I heard he's a fuckin' disaster,” Suibhne scoffs.

“Well he just killed the American Odin so he's not doing that bad,” I frown. “Just like when you were once the same person and you killed Balor.”

“Yer sweet on him, aren't ya?”

“We're together. I'm his, he's mine.”

“No wonder I've felt good for the first time in fuckin' forever,” Suibhne stretches out. “I wondered where the half worship came from.”

“So you get some of it too?”

“Like ya say, we were once the same god.”

Hard to believe that when the differences were so apparent. This Sweeney was average sized, a lot slighter in build and looked middle aged.

“Don't gimme that look,” he shakes his head. “Christianity had a lot to answer for for my current image. I miss being tall. Why are ya here then, little blade? Come to see if we're all the same?”

“No, I'm looking for my mother,” I finish my own drink. “I'm...I'm half old god, half new god. My mother was deported here by the American Odin.”

“Yer not talkin' 'bout Brigit, are ya?” Suibhne raises an eyebrow. “The Yankee one who fucked the rock god?”

“That's her.”

“You know, she never fuckin' shuts up 'bout ya. Tried to get so many tourists to pray to her when they returned back to the US but they all forgot. Well well....she ain't gonna be right pleased yer shacking up with a version a' me but she'll be so excited yer here. She lives on West End, big blue house with a big bay window looking to the sea.”

“Thank you, Suibhne,” I smile before standing up.

“No, _thank you_ ,” he tips his cap to me. “Best I've felt in centuries. Tell the other one he'd better treat ya right or he'll have me to deal with.”

“I will. Stay safe, Suibhne.”

“Always do,” he does have that same crooked grin that Sweeney does as he extends his hand to mine and we shake before I walk out of the pub.

**

“I still can't believe that old fuck is still around,” Sweeney is shaking his head as we're stood outside the blue house. “Yer not gonna ditch me for him, are ya?”

“No. I prefer the you that came to America,” I laugh. “I'm so nervous. What if she doesn't recognise me? Or believe me?”

“It'll be fine,” Sweeney takes my hand. “Right here with ya.”

I knock on the door, my heartbeat threatening to rattle my ribcage apart. I hear someone approaching the door and when it unlocks, my jaw falls open.

“DAD?!”

“Kiddo?!”

Brock...Rock N' Roll is stood there, looking more grey in the temples than I ever remember seeing him. His image has gone a lot more biker, like he was replaying the old classics in his retirement.

“How....what?!” I stammer before he throws himself at me, squeezing me into a hug and peppering my head with kisses.

“You're here!” Rock N' Roll laughs. “Look at you!”

“Who is it?” there's a soft voice from further down the corridor. “Rock, if it's that Morrigan again, tell her I'm still hungover from the last bender she took us on.”

“It's not Morrigan, babe,” he calls back. “You'll want to come to the door.”

Brigit pushes past and I see my mother for the first time in years. She looks exactly how I remembered her.

“It's.....it's my girl,” she clasps her hands to her mouth. “Oh my god, it's our girl, Rock!”

“I found you,” I smile, feeling happy tears running down my face as she grabs me, holding me tight and sobbing into the crook of my neck.

“My little fox cub!” she laughs. “I never stopped trying to get back. Never.”

“I know, Suibhne told me.”

“Suibhne?! You'll want to stay away from that old bastard.”

“Uh....” I pull away, giving Sweeney an apologetic glance. “Meet my...partner, Sweeney.”

“Wait....” Brigit trails off, finally noticing the giant leprechaun. “Are you.....oh, my girl. I would've taught you better than this if that one eyed fuck hadn't carted me away.”

“I can hear ya, ya know!” Sweeney frowns. “Not like I saved her life n' brought her here or nothin'.”

“Brig, let's get her inside,” Rock N' Roll motions. “Family reunion is better in the house, not the street.”

They invite me in and when I get into the lounge area, I'm stunned to see a giant portrait of our family on the chimney breast. I'm front and centre and the paint looks slightly worn on my face, like it's been touched a lot.

“So did Wednesday tell ya where I was?” Brigit sits next to me, Sweeney on the other side and Rock N' Roll sits on the floor like he always used to when I was little.

“Yeah in the end,” I nod. “He..uh...when he found out I existed, he deliberately forced you away from me and then waited until dad...I mean I thought you'd died? I was at your funeral!”

“Wasn't me,” Rock N' Roll shakes the greying mane of long hair. “He tried to kill me off after I made the deal with Media but I escaped. Then he got one of his sons to pray to me here in Ireland so I'd get locked here too. You wouldn't believe the resurgence of Folk Metal right now. I'm surprised I still have an American accent. Anyway, me and your mom have been trying to get back to you ever since. Every morning we go into town and try to find tourists to hitch a ride with but...people don't believe.”

“He wanted you for something, didn't he?” Brigit asks me, taking my hand in hers.

“To start a war but we stopped it. Sweeney killed him and then we came looking for you.”

“Ya really killed Wednesday?” Brigit leans around me to address Sweeney.

“Aye, I'm still good with a spear, Brig,” Sweeney rubs my back, more to comfort himself than anything. “And he hurt my girl. I wasn't going to let him hurt her any more.”

“I like this one better than the native one,” Rock N' Roll laughs, sparking up a Marlboro. “You been protecting my princess?”

“With my life,” Sweeney answers without hesitation.

“Well I approve then. Brig?”

“You upset my daughter, I'll use your own spear up yer arse,” she narrows her eyes at Sweeney in warning. “But I give my blessin'. Not that it counts for much. I can see you're bonded. Must be why Suibhne is so healthy these days. Besides...”

She puts her hand over my stomach and raises an eyebrow at me which is meant to be mockingly chastising. I don't get her meaning until Sweeney makes a strangled noise to the other side of me.

“WHAT, REALLY?!” he bellows, the sound echoing in the terraced house.

“Aye, really.”

“What's going on?” myself and Rock N' Roll say at the same time.

“Brigit's a fertility goddess, amongst other things,” Sweeney explains with barely concealed excitement. “She can always tell, even if it's early.”

“I'm pregnant?! It's only been a month!”

“And he's a god of luck, my wee blade,” she shakes her head. “Probably wanted it so badly it happened straight away, the perfect odds.”

“I'm gonna be a grandpa?!” Rock N' Roll looks overjoyed. “Holy shit! Brig, this is awesome! I'm gonna be a granddaddy!”

“Rock,” Brigit tries to be stern but fails spectacularly and starts laughing along with him. “I'm so happy for ya, sweetheart. Come on then, tell us the whole story.”

**

When we got back to the B&B, Sweeney got us up to the room so fast my feet barely touched the ground.

“I can't believe it,” he's beaming. “Yer givin' me a child.”

“I can't believe you knocked me up in a matter of weeks,” I shove him lightly in the chest. “That's intense.”

“Are ya scared, _Sionnachín_?”

“Queens don't get scared.”

“Say that again,” his voice drops an octave.

“Queens don't get scared.”

“And what a queen you are to me,” he picks me up and throws me on the bed. “Now let me fuck my queen until she's shaking the entire fuckin' hotel with her cries.”

“You're not usually this aggressive,” I tease.

“Something about ya carryin' my baby just _does things_ to me,” he growls, diving on me and dragging my dress up. “I'm sure you won't mind the things I do to you in return. I love you so much, _Sionnachín._ ”

**

_Epilogue_

When we returned to America, we prayed to Brigit and Rock N' Roll. They were finally able to come home.

They made a new life a few towns over from us whilst we returned to Sweeney's cabin. The whole time I was pregnant, he built new rooms for the house with a relentless kind of fervour.

I think he was pretty serious when he said he wanted an army of heirs.

When the baby came, Sweeney turned into the gentlest person I've ever seen. More than once I'd catch myself staring at him as he held our tiny child in his huge brawny arms and just feeling content with my life for the first time in forever.

Brigit and Rock, as I'd now taken to calling him too, were loving grandparents. As Rock confided in me, this was the legacy he really wanted to leave behind, something a little more human. He'd had enough of godliness for one lifetime.

Bilquis visited occasionally and it was hard during those times not to be taken in by her much stronger influence. More than once I joked she was going to get me knocked up again quickly if she kept radiating this kind of orgiastic energy.

Mr Nancy visited too, keeping a watch on the baby from his web in the corner when he felt like it and I caught him telling my child stories from his homeland sometimes. I heard how he'd spun a web from the earth to the heavens with an ant and a fly for company to get light and the sun into Africa.

I think he knew I was listening but we had become much better friends in recent months and he would play up his renditions when he knew I was outside the door.

I did resume my post working in the Crocodile bar after a grovelling apology for leaving Jack in the lurch but she forgave me when she found out I was pregnant and that she'd be the godmother. She'd babysit sometimes for us. Mainly, I think she was just happy I was sticking around for good.

I never expected on my great road trip that I'd end up not only recovering my lost family but making a new one in the process. As I watched Sweeney rocking the baby to sleep, singing softly in Irish, I felt like I'd gotten all the luck in the world.

I played with the coin in my hand.

Luck. Funny that.


End file.
